


Draco Draconem

by HeyAssbuttImBatman



Series: Draconem 'verse [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Cold, Draco is an Animagus, Dragons, Forests, How Do I Tag, Jellybean the owl, M/M, Magic, Pansy is an Auror, Snow, and a cat named Flummox, caverns, dragon fighting, harry's oblivious to some things, magical bracelets, mysterious mansions in the middle of nowhere, pansy is a good best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5584921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyAssbuttImBatman/pseuds/HeyAssbuttImBatman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Auror partners Harry and Ron are sent to Russia to investigate the disappearances of a few dragons off the reserve there. They didn't count on it being more than just missing dragons, and there's something strange about the white dragon with the strangely intelligent grey eyes that they find locked up deep underground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry glared at his foe from across the large room, panting heavily and shivering as sweat rolled down his back. The upturned couch he was crouched behind was singed in multiple places, and the whole area was a mess of broken furniture and burn marks from where curses had hit the floor and walls.

He cursed and ducked as a bright blue streak shot at him, just barely managing to avoid getting hit right in the face. The person opposite him cackled loudly and waved the wand in his hand - Harry's wand - with wild abandon.

Glancing around the room for any type of weapon, Harry's gaze fell on a large box of chocolates sitting a few feet away from him. Determined, he army crawled towards it, hoping that the movement wasn't seen by his opponent.

"Ah-ha!" he shouted when he reached the box unscathed. He held it up in the air and waved it around, grinning to himself when the hexes and curses stopped flying. "If you give me back my wand, I'll let you eat as many chocolates as you want!"

Unsurprisingly, there was an excited squeal and a flurry of footsteps, and then a tiny body flung itself at him. Bright blue hair filled his vision as the boy reached up towards the chocolates.

"Gimme, gimme, gimme!" he chanted, bouncing slightly on Harry's chest. He threw Harry's wand to the floor and used both hands, laughing in triumph when Harry dropped the box to go after his wand.

Harry stood shakily to his feet and glared down at Teddy as the boy munched happily on a cherry cordial. With only a few muttered incantations he fixed all of his furniture and set the house to rights, but slight anger still boiled in his belly.

"Teddy Lupin," he growled in what he hoped was his best no-nonsense angry parent voice. Judging by how Teddy's eyes widened and he stopped chewing, it worked. "How many times have I told you not to play with my wand?"

The three-year-old swallowed and shrugged, gazing sorrowfully up at Harry. No matter how angry he was, which honestly wasn't even that much, Harry could never resist Teddy's puppy dog face. But still, he had to be firm, even if he still got a little queasy when it came to disciplining his godson, else this would only happen again.

"I told you last time what would happen if you didn't listen, didn't I?" he asked, and Teddy nodded. "Go to your room, Teddy. You may come out… when you've thought about what you've… done?" It came out as a question, and Harry was extremely glad that Teddy couldn't comprehend his hesitance and obvious lack of experience in this department of parenting.

Harry watched as Teddy trumped up the stairs towards his bedroom, pausing at the top of the stairs and casting one last longing gaze at the half-eaten box of chocolates sitting by Harry's feet before turning the corner and disappearing.

Harry sighed and sat down on the couch he had just repaired, frowning to himself. This was highly unusual. Theodore Lupin was one of the best behaved little boys Harry had ever met. Andromeda, who Teddy lived with, had made sure of that. It still amazed Harry when he saw children Teddy's age throwing tantrums over sweets while Teddy himself simply accepted the answer of 'no' and moved on with his life.

So what had made him suddenly grab Harry's wand and start throwing hexes at everything? And where had he even learned to do magic like that?

Harry decided that the best course of action would be to simply ask Teddy what had motivated him to such drastic action. Well, as drastic as a toddler could be, anyway. Mind made up, Harry pulled himself up and headed for the kitchen. The cabinet flapped a very rude greeting and Harry absentmindedly flipped it off as he rummaged around in the fridge for milk.

Teddy's favorite mug, the one with a picture of a bear on it, was pulled out next. Harry went through the motions of making the perfect cup of hot chocolate - something Hermione had showed him years ago - though his mind was on other things.

When the drink was finished, Harry threw in four large marshmallows and carried it up to Teddy's room. He knocked on the door and received a very sullen "Come in" as a response. Biting his lip to keep from grinning, Harry entered and found Teddy sitting in the middle of his bed, pouting.

He perked up when he noticed what Harry was holding, but quickly schooled his face. Harry handed the mug to him wordlessly and waited until he had taken a sip before speaking.

"Teddy," he started, "you know why I don't let you play with my wand, right?"

"Because it's dangerous," Teddy mumbled.

"Exactly," Harry said. "You saw what happened to all of the furniture in the sitting room, didn't you? What if that had happened to you or me? We could have been hurt, or worse."

Teddy set his cup on his bedside table and crawled into Harry's lap. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"I know you won't, Teddy. But I have to know, why did you take my wand in the first place? And where did you learn how to spell?"

Teddy puffed out his chest proudly. "Draco taught me," he said, and Harry scowled. "Well, he didn't actually teach me, but when I go over to his house he sometimes lets me help him do magic. He says it's to… strengthen my control and to prepare me for Hogwarts."

"He lets you do magic?" Harry asked incredulously. "That's against the law!"

Teddy's eyes widened. "Will Draco get into trouble? I don't actually do magic, Harry, he just lets me hold his wand with him and help him say the spell."

Harry scoffed, as he always did when Teddy mentioned his cousin. It wasn't that he still hated Malfoy, it was just that old habits die hard, and from what Harry had gathered from the few times he had seen the git over the years, he was still as big an arse as he always was at school.

Teddy reached for his mug and took a marshmallow out, popping it into his mouth and chewing loudly.

"I was supposed to go to Draco's house yesterday," he said, spraying Harry's arm with marshmallow fluff, "but Grandromeda said I couldn't."

"Why not? Doesn't he make time for you?" Harry asked, then immediately felt bad afterwards. Luckily, Teddy was distracted by the first question.

"I asked, but Gran said that Draco was busy." Figures. "But she was weird when she said it."

Harry frowned. "How was she weird?"

"She seemed…" Teddy scrunched up his nose as he struggled to find the right word. "She seemed worried. And sad."

"That is very strange," Harry agreed. Teddy beamed at him and gulped the rest of his hot chocolate. He licked the melted marshmallows off of his lip and slid down to the floor.

"I said I'm sorry about your wand," Teddy said hopefully. "Can we go play now?"

Harry chuckled and opened the door, leading the way to the stairs. "Sure, Ted."

And as he enjoyed the rest of his Sunday with his godson, he put all thoughts of Draco Malfoy out of his mind.

… oO()Oo …

One would think that after almost his entire life spent fighting Dark wizards and saving the world over and over again, Harry would continue to do so and join the Aurors. Ane one would be right.

Despite only having been out of training for a mere two years, he and his partner Ron were two of the best Aurors the program had to offer. And they loved it.

They didn't, however, love the paperwork. Currently, they were sitting in their shared office, filling out the forms detailing every single thing that had happened on their last case. Or at least, Ron was filling out the forms. Harry was sitting in his swivel chair, trying to figure out how many times he could spin around before he threw up.

"Would you stop?" Ron asked hotly, throwing down his quill. "You're making me dizzy just watching you."

"Then don't watch me," Harry cheekily replied. He laughed when Ron glared at him. "Lighten up, mate, I'm just having a bit of fun."

"You're not supposed to be having fun," Ron told him. He gestured wildly to the tall stack of forms on Harry's desk. "You're supposed to be filling out those bloody forms."

Harry sighed and planted his feet on the floor. "But, Ron, I'm bored," he said petulantly. "I hate paperwork."

"And you think I don't?" Ron asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I swear it's like raising a two-year-old. Listen, Harry-"

But Harry never got to hear what Ron was going to say, because at that moment there was a knock at their door and then a bright pink head poked inside.

"Hello!" the Head Auror's secretary chirped. "Auror Hemlock would like to see you."

"A case?" Harry asked, and though the witch didn't say anything outright, she smiled and tapped the side of her nose. Harry gave an ecstatic shout and jumped out of his chair, almost falling on his face in an attempt to get out of the door as soon as possible.

Ron snorted. "Elegant, Harry." He carefully aligned all of the papers on his desk and put his quill and inkwell back into his drawer, smirking when Harry started to squirm with impatience. Finally, he straightened up and gave a satisfied nod. "Right. Let's go."

They walked down the corridor behind the secretary, Harry pestering her for details on the case and Ron trying - and failing - to get him to stop. When they reached the Head Auror's office, she gave them a disgruntled look and bustled them in, closing the door sharply behind her.

"What did you do to my secretary?" Head Auror Hemlock was everything that his name suggested. He was huge, taller even than Ron, and much more broad. His face seemed to be set in a constant scowl and the way his flinty black eyes squinted at everything he looked at made it seem like he was always disappointed.

"Harry broke her," Ron said, and Hemlock snorted.

"Alright, sit down, boys." They sat down in the uncomfortable wooden chairs in front of his desk. "I have a case for you."

"We figured," Harry interjected, though he clamped his mouth shut when Hemlock glared at him.

"As I was saying," he said irritably, "this case is not like many we have seen before. What do you know about dragons?"

Ron frowned. "Dragons?"

"Yes, dragons. I received a letter from one Charlie Weasley about what appears to be dragon poaching in Russia."

He passed them each a plain manilla folder. All that was in Harry's was a letter and a small map of Russia with details about the dragon reserve there. He pulled out the letter and quickly read it.

Head Auror Hemlock,

My name is Charlie weasley. I'm a dragonologist currently working at a reserve in Russia. The Head Dragonologist and I have found that thirteen dragons have apparently gone missing. When we investigated the places where the dragons nested, we discovered traces of Dark Magic, as well as trapping magic scattered across the reserve, as well.

All of this indicates that someone, or some people, are poaching dragons from off the reserve. As you can well imagine, this is a great security risk to not only the dragons, but the wizards and witches coming into contact with them, as well.

Dragons are an incredibly valuable resource for the Wizarding World, and if any of them should be lost or escape their captors, I fear for all the damage that could be done. I would like to request a professional come out and confirm that the traces of Dark magic are just that.

Sincerely,

Charlie Weasley, Dragonologist

Harry looked up to find that Ron had already finished reading, and was going over the map of Russia. He turned to Hemlock.

"So, you want us to go out to Russia to make sure that this actually is poaching?" he asked.

Hemlock nodded. "I don't want to send just any old Aurors. If this actually is poaching, I want the team assigned to it to be able to handle the situation."

"Got it."

"When are we leaving?" Ron asked.

"Tomorrow morning, if possible," Hemlock answered. "This seems a little time sensitive, don't you think? Pack enough for at least a week. We don't know how long this will take, but it's best to always be prepared. Alright, now, I want you to go home and learn all you can about dragons and Russia. Meet me here tomorrow morning at eight."

Hemlock picked up his quill and dipped it into his inkwell, and the two Aurors took that as a dismissal. They exited the office, and ignored the way the pink-haired witch purposefully didn't look at them.

"So, what do you think?" Harry asked. "Dragons."

Ron shrugged. "It's cool, if you like that sort of thing. Honestly, I'd be happy if we were sent to help an old lady cross the road."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "That paperwork was killing me."

"You weren't even doing anything!" Ron said. "I was the one actually doing the work."

They rounded the corner without watching where they were going, and so they didn't see Pansy Parkinson until it was too late. It was only Harry's quick reflexes that saved the witch from falling. She glared at them as she adjusted her maroon Auror robes.

"Watch where you're going," she said crossly, and then she hurried off towards Hemlock's office. Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron.

"She didn't insult us."

"What?" the redhead asked.

"She didn't insult us," Harry said again. "She always insults us."

"Well, she's in a hurry, Harry."

"Yeah." Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. "I wonder what she's up to."

Ron groaned. "Bloody hell, stop with the face."

"What face?"

"That face that you make right before you go off and do something stupid. Who says that Parkinson's up to something, anyway? For all you know, she could just really have to pee."

"Loo's that way," Harry said, pointing down the corridor. "And she had a very suspicious look in her eye. I'm going to follow her."

Ron mumbled something that sounded like "Of course you are", but he still followed Harry. The two of them tracked Parkinson to Hemlock's office.

"Distract the secretary," Harry whispered. Ron sighed, but walked over to the witch's desk anyway. Harry took advantage of her lack of attention and crept up to Hemlock's door, wishing that he still carried his Invisibility Cloak with him at all times.

He pressed his ear up against the wood and breathed as quietly as he could. He could just barely make out voices.

"...I'm the best one for the job," Parkinson said. "The rookies you've assigned to the case won't be able to find him."

"And you will?" Hemlock asked, and he sounded skeptical.

"Yes. I know him better than anyone else. If he was taken, I'll know who was most likely to do such a thing. And if he wasn't taken, I'll most likely know where he's gone to."

There was a pregnant pause, and even Harry felt himself tense slightly.

"Very well," Hemlock said. "Against my better judgement, I'll assign you to the case, if only because you've proven yourself to be a more-then-capable Auror. But the minute you start letting your emotions get the best of you…"

"Of course, sir."

Harry scrambled backwards when he registered footsteps coming towards the door, and pulled himself to his feet just as the door swung open. Parkinson raised one eyebrow at him, but then her face broke out into a smug smirk.

"Hello, Potter," she said, pulling the door shut behind her. She began walking and Harry followed. Ron cast a quick farewell to the secretary and ran to catch up with them.

"So, Parkinson," he said. "Planning anything evil or nefarious?"

"Is that why Potter was listening in on my conversation?" she asked. "I thought those days were behind you."

"What were doing in Hemlock's office, then?" Harry asked. Parkinson rolled her eyes.

"I was asking if my partner and I could take over a case that he assigned to a pair of rookies," she said exasperatedly. "Happy now?"

"What's the case?" Ron asked, and he sounded genuinely curious.

"Missing person," Parkinson told him. "The Potions professor at Hogwarts was reported missing on Saturday. I thought that I'd be able to solve the case faster than Dobbs and Robbins, that's all."

She suddenly stopped and spun on her heel so that she was facing them.

"If that's all you need, would you kindly not loiter in front of my office?"

"Come on, Harry, we have to go pack," Ron said, grabbing Harry by the elbow and leading him towards their own office. He shut the door, and then turned to Harry expectantly.

"Why would she want a missing person's case?" Harry asked without preamble. "There's not much glory in finding some bloke who managed to wander off into the Forbidden Forest and get kidnapped by centaurs, or something."

"Like she said, she'd probably be able to solve the case sooner," Ron said. "But who cares? We have our own case to worry about."

"Yeah." Harry leaned back in his chair. "So, wanna come over to mine and help me pack?"

"You wish," Ron said as if the idea was absolutely ridiculous. Harry grinned.

"Worth a shot."

Harry gathered up the forms on his desk and shoved them haphazardly into a drawer. When he was done, he and Ron locked up their office and headed to the Floo stations. Since the work day still technically wasn't over, the lines were nearly nonexistent. They each grabbed a handful of the green powder when it was their turn.

"See you at mine," Ron said, and then he disappeared in a swirl of green flames. Harry stepped up to his fireplace and threw the powder in. When the flames turned green, he stepped inside.

"Weasley Grove!" he said, very carefully (he still hadn't completely recovered from the Knockturn Alley incident). He squeezed his eyes shut as the nauseating spinning sensation started, and didn't open them until he had stumbled out of the fireplace in Ron and Hermione's living room.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said cheerfully as he righted himself. She walked over to hug him, keeping one hand on her slightly swollen belly as she did. "You and Ron are home early. Got a new case?"

"Yeah," Harry said, grinning. "We're going to Russia to help Charlie find some dragon poachers at a reserve."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Someone's been poaching dragons? That's terrible! You know what, I think I have some books on dragons. Here, I'll go get them for you. Ron's in the kitchen, by the way."

She walked off towards the library and Harry headed to the kitchen, not surprised to find Ron standing with his head buried in the fridge.

"Anything good?" he asked. Ron pulled back and tossed him a beer.

"So, has 'Mione gone to look up dragons yet?" he asked.

Harry chuckled. "Of course. And knowing her, she'll insist on going over the information with us so that if we need help on our case she'll be able to."

Ron held up he beer. "Well, here's to being best friends with insufferable bookworms, and the advantages that come with it."

"Cheers." Harry tapped his bottle against Ron's and took a long swig.

… oO()Oo …

It was dark by the time Harry finally made it home, even though it was barely past twelve when he had left the Ministry. Like every time he had ever had a study session with Hermione, his head felt like it would burst with all the information crammed into it and he was exhausted, despite not actually doing anything other than read.

Kreacher, who was miraculously still alive after all these years, had dinner waiting for him. After he scarfed down as many sandwiches as he could, Harry stumbled upstairs and into the shower he had installed into the master bathroom.

Grimmauld Place, Harry had quickly discovered, was not a very good place to live. Sure, it was a lot cleaner after being used as a headquarters by the Order of the Phoenix during the war, but it had fallen back into disrepair soon after everyone had left.

Once he had finished his so-called eighth year of Hogwarts, he had made it his mission to renovate the dusty old house. And it wasn't just cleaning; no, he completely modernized it. He had repainted the walls, fixed all the creaky staircases, and replaced the windows with bigger ones that let in more light.

He had installed showers, a fridge, multiple televisions, even had the place set up for WiFi. There was only one room in the house that he never touched. He left Sirius' room be, as a sort of memorial for his godfather.

The master bedroom he had taken for himself, simply because the bathroom was attached and it had the most space.

His shower was quick, though it still felt heavenly on his sore back - hunching over books for hours on end had never agreed with him. He groaned when he exited the steamy bedroom and spied his trunk at the foot of his bed.

He had forgotten that he needed to pack for his trip. Well, he was a wizard for a reason, right? With only a muttered incantation, Harry had all of his clothes floating in the air in front of him. He idly looked through them, sending anything that looked warm over to his trunk and the rest back into his closet.

Another spell and the clothes were folding themselves and soaring into his trunk, and Harry was silently thanking Mrs. Weasley for teaching him domestic housework spells when he was younger.

His trunk was packed and ready to go in less than ten minutes, and Harry settled himself on his bed with The Witch or Wizard's Guide to Everything Dragon. Sighing, he leaned back and started mentally preparing himself for the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

At exactly eight o'clock the next morning, Harry was knocking on Hemlock's office door, Ron standing by his side. They both were dressed in their winter Auror robes, the thick ones with soft cotton lining the insides and heavy hoods. They both had shrunken their trunks and shoved them into their pockets.

"Come in!" Hemlock called. He looked up and he smiled when Harry and Ron entered. Well, not an actual smile; but his eyes softened just a bit and his mouth twitched, and that was the closest to a smile Hemlock had ever gotten.

"Ah, hello, boys," he said. "All ready to go, I see."

"Yes, sir," Ron said. Hemlock stood and led them over to his large fireplace. Sitting on the marble mantel was a large jar, from which Harry and Ron took a handful of Floo powder each.

"Now," Hemlock said. "You're going to the Russian Dragon Reserve headquarters. There should be someone waiting to receive you. You'll be debriefed there. I will be expecting daily reports, but be mindful of the nine hour time difference. I don't want you two waking me up at some ungodly hour."

"Yes, sir," Ron said again. He nodded to Hemlock and Harry, and threw his powder into the flames. He spun out of sight, and then it was Harry's turn.

He'd never travelled long distances by Floo before this, preferring broom or Apparating or even Muggle means of travel, and as he spun around and around and around, he promised himself that he never would again.

It seemed to take forever, and Harry was very close to losing his lunch by the time he finally spun to a stop and pitched forward into fresh air. He was caught by a pair of strong hands, and helped to his feet.

"Alright there, Harry?" Charlie Weasley asked. He made sure Harry was steady on his feet before letting him go. "Long time, no see, eh?"

"Hi, Charlie," Harry said, grinning. "It's great to see you again."

"You, too, mate." Ron came up behind him and cleared his throat.

"Much as I would love to stand here and chat for the rest of the night, it's already five o'clock here, and we need to get started."

Charlie rolled his eyes, but led them towards a door, anyway.

"He's still a humongous prat, then?" he asked, but Harry wasn't listening, too busy looking around to answer.

When Hemlock had said that they were going to a dragon reserve in Russia, Harry had been expecting a huge wooden cabin decorated with bear pelts in the middle of nowhere. He had been right about the middle of nowhere part, but his vision of the headquarters couldn't be farther from the truth.

They were standing in what appeared to be the lobby of the HQ. It was huge, wide and open and with a tall ceiling. The walls were a rich blue color, and most of the building was glass. Windows spanned the entire length of one wall, giving everyone inside a fantastic view of the snowy forests outside.

There was a receptionist's desk in the middle of the far wall, and opposite that was a row of large fireplaces, all obviously for Floo travel. Scattered around the lobby were cozy looking armchairs and sofas, all of them placed strategically near a fireplace, and even a firepit in a few places.

All in all, it was very nice.

"Not what you were expecting, is it?" Charlie asked, grinning. Harry shook his head.

"I thought there would be more bear pelts," he admitted, and Charlie laughed. The door he opened ended up being the entrance to a stairwell. He started up, Ron and Harry following close behind.

"Where are we going?" Ron asked.

"To see the Head Dragonologist," Charlie answered. "He's the one technically in charge of this reserve; I'm just here as a consultant."

The stairs ended at a single door. Charlie knocked smartly on it, and it swung open. He strode confidently inside, the two Aurors right behind him.

Harry figured that the room was an office, judging by the desk in the center of it and the bookshelves and filing cabinets pushed up against one wall. The man sitting at the desk looked up when they approached.

"Hello," he said, his Russian accent a little difficult to understand. He was tall and slim, and wearing what looked to be a pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. Light brown hair fell into his eyes, and thin lips stretched into a smile. "You must be the Aurors here to investigate the missing dragons."

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron said, shaking the man's hand, "and this is my partner, Harry Potter."

"Vladimir Avilov." His blue eyes regarded Harry curiously. "It is an honor to meet the Saviour of the Wizarding World, Mr. Potter."

"Er, yeah," Harry said awkwardly. "Just call me Harry."

"Very well, Auror Potter," Vladimir said. Ron snickered. "Please, have a seat. I'm sure you have some questions."

The two Aurors sat down in the chairs in front of Vladimir's desk. They were cushioned, and a lot more comfortable than Hemlock's. Charlie leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, looking entirely at ease in the small room.

"So, first off, I'd like to thank you both for coming out here," Vladimir said.

Ron shrugged. "It's our job," he said simply, and left it at that. "We would, however, like some more details than what was provided to us."

"Of course." Vladimir reached into a drawer and produced a thick folder, which he handed to Harry. "That is all of the information we have collected regarding the missing dragons."

Ron leaned closer so that he could read over Harry's shoulder. The folder contained much more information than Hemlock had given them. There was information on the dragons themselves - names, ages, breeds, weights, gender, etc. - and on the areas where they were last seen, as well as the spots where Dark Magic had been found.

"I'm sure you'd like some time to go over all of the information," Vladimir said. "So Charlie will be showing you to the rooms you will be staying in."

Charlie smiled and motioned for them to follow as he led them back down the staircase. They crossed the lobby and went through another door, which led to a long, brightly lit hallway.

"Vlad wanted me to give you two separate rooms," Charlie said. "But I know you two don't like sleeping apart when you're on missions, so I prepared a room with two beds for you."

"Thanks, Charlie," Harry said. They stopped in front of the door in the very middle of the hall.

"Dinner's at seven in the mess hall," Charlie said. "I'll see you guys then."

Harry opened the door and stepped inside, and his eyebrows rose in appreciation. The room was large, big enough to fit two queen sized beds, a writing desk, and two armchairs around a fireplace. There was a door opposite the one that led to the hallway, that turned out to be a full bathroom.

"This is nice," Ron said.

"Shut up," Harry replied good-naturedly. "We aren't a couple on a honeymoon."

Ron flipped him off and flopped onto one of the beds. "It's almost dinner," he said. "But we just got up, like, two hours ago."

"We'll just have to get used to the time difference," Harry replied. He pulled his trunk out of his pocket and returned it to normal size, then set it down at the foot of his bed. "Wait, what time is it here?"

Ron cast a Tempus.

"It's half past five," he said. "And that means that it's about half past eight in the morning back home."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "That's going to take a lot of getting used to."

"Agreed." Ron set up his own trunk and opened the folder that Vladimir had given them. "Well, we have half an hour to kill. Might as well get started on this."

Harry groaned. "I hate researching."

"It's not research," Ron said. "It's a case file. Just because we're not chasing a Dark wizard doesn't make this any less important. And if I remember correctly, yesterday you were practically bouncing off the walls with excitement when Hemlock told us about this."

"Alright, alright," Harry said. "I see your point. Budge up, you're taking more space than my dear Aunt Marge."

Ron made a face, but moved over so that Harry could sit next to him. Harry took a deep breath and let it out slow, then cracked his neck as if preparing for a fight.

"Let's get this over with."

… oO()Oo …

The mess hall ended up being separate from the main HQ building. They Flood there, and were surprised to find at least one hundred people milling about the large building. After waiting in line and receiving a large bowl of soup and a small roll of bread apiece, Harry and Ron sat down at a table with Charlie and Vladimir.

Charlie showed them a map of the compound itself. It turns out that it wasn't one large building, like they had assumed. There were actually multiple separate buildings: the main HQ, which included the lobby, an information center, guest rooms, and Vladimir's office; the barracks, where the dragonologists and maintenance crew lived; the hospital, where injured people and dragons alike were treated; the shed, a huge garage with all practical things like brooms, cleaning supplies, rope, weapons, etc.; the owlery, a large tower in the center of the compound where the owls lived.

"A formal tour can wait," Vladimir said to them as they ate. "Tomorrow I want to show you the places where Dark Magic was found, if that's alright with you."

"Of course," Harry said. "I can tell that you're eager to find the poachers."

Vladimir nodded. "Yes, it would put me at ease to see the dragons back safely where we can keep an eye on them."

"We'll get them back," Charlie said comfortingly, laying a hand on Vladimir's shoulder. "Harry and Ron are very good at what they do."

Vladimir smiled at him. To Harry's right, Ron was looking a little green.

"Is the soup alright?" Harry asked him. It wouldn't do to have his partner get sick in the middle of a case. Ron nodded and Harry went back to his own meal, satisfied.

… oO()Oo …

Harry thought he was prepared for the cold. Before leaving his room that morning, he had put on a sweater over his undershirt, two pairs of jeans with the longest pair of socks he had, leather boots with fur inside them and his woolen Auror robes. But he still flinched back when he exited the HQ building for the first time.

Even with all of the extra layers, he could feel the icy wind down to his bones. His fingers lost all feeling instantly, and he fumbled with his wand a bit before managing to slip it into its holster.

"Alright there?" Charlie asked. Harry nodded jerkily, and the redhead smirked. At least Ron was suffering just as much as he was. Vladimir didn't seem to be affected, though he had grown up here.

"If we take brooms," the man called back to them from his position at the front of the group, "we should reach the first site in less than an hour, if the wind isn't against us."

It didn't take long to reach the shed, five minutes at most. Harry stamped snow from his boots and rubbed his hands together, trying to get blood flowing again.

"This doesn't look like any shed I've ever seen," Ron commented as Vladimir led them further into the building. His voice echoed over the high ceilings, bouncing back at them repeatedly before finally tapering out.

Harry had to agree with him. It was almost the size of the HQ building, though made entirely of cement to keep it fireproof. Harry could see all kinds of stuff sitting around. Snowmobiles, sleds, and skis were sitting next to firewood and lighter fluid, and a tall stack of matches sat on a shelf nailed into the wall. On the far side, where they were heading, a large selection of brooms leaned against the wall.

There were dozens of them, all of them obviously made for speed rather than stability. Vladimir grabbed four, and then tossed one to each member of their party. Once they were all ready to go, they went back outside and lifted off.

It was colder up in the air, and though Harry was glad to be back on a broom after almost three months without being able to fly, he couldn't help but hunch in on himself to ward off the frigid wind.

They left about an hour before sunrise, and the sun was just peeking over the horizon by the time they finally touched down in a large clearing. Harry immediately pulled out his wand and cast a Warming Charm on himself, not surprised to see the other three doing the same.

"This is where we found the first traces of Dark Magic," Charlie informed them. "There are other spots, and even a few active Dark traps, but we've instructed the staff to stay away from those areas."

"Good," Harry said. He and Ron got to work immediately, casting multiple detection charms, and a few protection spells, just in case there was any residue leftover from the trap. Vladimir and Charlie stayed silent the whole time, watching with interest as both Harry's and Ron's wands glowed a faint green color.

"The good news is that there's no Dark magic in this clearing anymore," Ron said. "The bad news is that we can't trace whoever cast the spells without a taste of their magical signature first."

"Can you take us to one of the active traps?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Vladimir said. Just then, there was a flash of silver and a small Patronus came cantering into the clearing. The horse stopped in front of Vladimir and began to speak in a woman's voice. It said something in Russian, then disappeared.

Vladimir cursed violently and then sighed.

"You'd better go," Charlie said, obviously understanding what the Patronus had said. "You know how Dominika can always manage to make a bad situation worse."

Vladimir looked torn for a moment, as if unable to decide, then nodded. He mounted his broom.

"Be safe," he said, his eyes flicking over the three of them and landing on Charlie. The redhead smiled.

"I always am," he said cheekily.

Vladimir snorted. "That's not reassuring." With one last nod, he kicked off and soon he was only a small dot against the blue sky.

"Well, the closest active trap isn't far from here, only about a hundred miles," Charlie said. "We can make it there and back to the reserve HQ before dark if we hurry."

"Lead the way," Ron said, and the three of them grabbed their brooms and shot into the sky. Nothing was said the whole flight. It took about two hours, as the favorable tailwind suddenly turned into a headwind, and slowed their progress considerably.

Still, they made it to the site in good time, according to Charlie. It wasn't a clearing, this time. Instead, Charlie had them land carefully among the small, close growing pines that made up most of the landscape and pointed to a large hill in the distance.

"That's it," he said. "There's Dark Magic all over that hill. It's actually a great spot to put a dragon trap. For some reason, the beasts love that hill. I've seen tons of them napping or eating or just sitting there for hours."

Ron pulled out his wand, Harry a second later, and motioned for his brother to stand back.

"You do set A," he said, "and I'll do set B."

"Right," Harry said. He called the spells that made up set A to mind, and began casting. Not even two minutes later both of the wands began glowing a deep red color.

"That's not good," Ron said. He frowned, then turned to Harry. "Find out how far out the perimeter of the spell is. I'm going to see if I can figure out how many spells there are."

Harry nodded and began waving his wand in complicated little movements, carefully reciting incantation after incantation. Ron, at his side, was doing the same thing. Five minutes later, and a faint blue dome was covering the hill, and the small group was standing right at the edge of it.

"It's just one spell," Ron told them as they gazed through the misty blue magic field. "But it's been layered so thickly and in so many places that I can't deactivate it. I'm not even entirely sure what spell was used."

"Maybe it's an original," Harry suggested. "Like, maybe someone created a new spell specifically for trapping dragons."

"Maybe," Ron mused. "We need to inform Hemlock of this. Charlie, how many more active traps are there?"

"Five more spread around the reserve," Charlie said. "They've all been surrounded with Muggle-repelling spells and anti-detection wards, and all of the witches and wizards who work here have been told to stay away."

"Good. We'll probably need to send for a Cursebreaker to fix this mess."

A sudden rustling sound from overhead had both of the Aurors shipping around, wands raised threateningly, but they calmed once they saw it was only an owl. The Great Grey swooped lower and lower, until it finally alighted on Charlie's arm.

It held a wand in its beak, and Charlie's eyes widened with alarm when he saw it. With shaking fingers he took it from the owl, who hooted and nibbled at his finger.

"Shit," the redhead said. "Shit. That explains…"

"Charlie?" Ron said. "Is everything okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, everything's fine," Charlie said, but he sounded distracted. His gaze kept snapping to where the owl had come from.

"Do you know whose wand that is?" Harry asked.

"Er, yes," Charlie said. "They lost it earlier this week and I was just… surprised to see this owl with it." He turned to the bird on his arm. "Go back to the owlery. I'll be by later."

The owl gave a soft hoot and spread its great wings. Charlie threw his arm up and the owl launched itself into the sky.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Ron asked. "You look a little peaky."

"I'm just hungry, is all," Charlie said. "Look, if you're done here, can we get back to HQ?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, but agreed. They mounted their brooms and started making their way back to the main reserve.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry and Ron Firecalled Hemlock around 6 PM, meaning that it was 9 AM in London.

"So?" Hemlock asked. "What news?"

Ron was kneeling with his head in the flames, but Harry had no problem making out his words.

"It's definitely trapping magic," the redhead said. "In multiple places, according to Charlie. We weren't able to identify the spell; it's too intricate. We need a Cursebreaker, but not yet. We want to see if we can lure out the trappers, or catch them in the act, and from what I can gather about the spell, if we disengage it the one who cast it will be alerted immediately."

"Alright, good work." Hemlock paused. "For now just work on identifying and possibly locating the poachers. Call me when you have, and we'll go from there."

"Yes, sir." Ron pulled his head back and shook the ash from his hair. The flames returned to their normal color. "Did you get all that?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. We need to work on ID spells. If all we have is the magical signature, we should still be able to find out who cast the spell."

"You know what this means, don't you?" Ron asked, grinning. "Research!"

Harry groaned loudly. "Fucking research," he muttered. Louder, he said, "Alright, well, where can we find books on identification spells?"

"I'll call Hermione and find something," Rom promised. "Now, get out. I want to talk to my wife in peace."

Harry stuck his tongue out childishly, but still left the room, making sure to close the door when he left. They had been in Vladimir's office, as they hadn't wanted to talk to the Head Auror in the middle of the lobby, lest anyone overhear.

Harry descended the staircase quickly, wanting to get in a shower before dinner. He exited the staircase and waved to the receptionist (whom he had learned was named Eve, and was absolutely terrified of dragons) as he crossed the lobby.

When he made it to his room, he quickly showered and changed out of his Auror robes. Much as he was appreciative of the warmth, he didn't like looking like a strawberry all the time. After his shower, he realized that he still had about thirty minutes until dinner, and so he decided to track down Charlie and see what the redhead was up to.

From Eve, Harry learned that Charlie was last seen heading towards the library. He didn't know that the HQ had a library, so he eagerly followed Eve's directions. It turned out, though, that the library was just a small room filled with bookshelves, a fireplace, and one small table with two chairs.

It was locked, but the door wasn't even shut all the way, as if Charlie had wanted to keep people out but was in too much of a hurry to properly ensure his privacy. Curious, Harry silently opened the door and crept inside. He crouched behind one of the shelves and listened.

"... positive that this is his," Charlie was saying. "It was with his owl."

"Oh, he must be so scared without his wand!" Harry's eyes widened. That sounded a lot like…

"Pansy, calm down. He's more than capable of taking care of himself, though if he's involved with the smugglings that have been going on…"

"If you're insinuating that he'd help smuggle dragons out of a reserve," Parkinson threatened.

"Quite the opposite, actually," Charlie said. Parkinson gasped.

"You don't think…"

"It's the only thing that makes sense." Someone sniffled. "Don't cry, Pansy, please. We'll find him. We have two of the best Aurors on the force here on this case."

Parkinson scoffed. "Potter and that moronic brother of yours," she muttered. "I know they're capable, but I'd rather be there helping."

"You can't," Charlie said. "You're on the case of the missing Hogwarts professor, remember? These cases are so far unrelated, and he'd probably thank you to keep it that way until we know for sure."

Harry had no idea why Charlie had put so much emphasis on 'missing Hogwarts professor', or why he had brought it up in the first place. Obviously those two cases had nothing to do with each other. There was no need for him to state the obvious.

"I have to go," Parkinson said. "Duty calls, and all that."

"Here, take the wand."

"No, you keep it. It's much more likely that you'll find him there than here, and I know he'd like to have it back as soon as possible." Pansy sniffed again. "Thank you so much, Charlie."

"You don't need to thank me, Pansy," Charlie said. "I'm just as worried as you are, and you aren't the only one who wants him back safe."

There was a whooshing sound and then Charlie sighed.

"Right," he said. "Off to the owlery."

Harry fumbled with his wand and cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm just as Charlie came around the corner. He held completely still, even though the charm should have held even if he had moved. When the dragonologist exited the library without noticing him, he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding.

He released the spell and left, hurrying back to his room and plopping down on his bed. What should he do? He could ask Charlie about it, but somehow he didn't think that the man would appreciate being spied on. Should he tell Ron? His fellow Auror would be plenty suspicious if he found out that his brother was talking with Pansy Parkinson of all people about their case; but he might get so angry at Harry spying on Charlie that he wouldn't give Harry a chance to explain.

Groaning in frustration, he buried himself underneath the covers and decided to just ignore the problem and hope it goes away.

… oO()Oo …

Harry was more prepared the next time they went out, and he had cast a permanent Warming Charm on his boots, pants and jumper before leaving the main reserve compound. He was comfortably cool when he, Ron, and Charlie set out to investigate another one of the active traps.

This one was three hours away from the HQ lobby by broom, and by the time they landed, Harry was stiff from sitting in one position for so long.

"I can't feel my arse," was the first thing he said when they landed. Ron snorted, but Charlie had a look of grim determination on his face and didn't respond to the comment. Ron noticed and gave his brother a worried look.

"Charlie, are you alright, mate?" he asked. Charlie nodded and his face relaxed, though there was still a gleam of something in his eyes.

"I'm just anxious," he said. "We have to find the dragons as soon as possible."

"We will, Charlie," Harry said. He remembered the conversation he had overheard (read: he spied) the night before, and wondered if this mysterious 'he' that Charlie and Parkinson had been talking about had anything to do with it.

"So, where's the trap?" Ron asked. Charlie pointed to a small creek winding through the trees.

"Right at that spot where the water doubles back for a bit," he said. Harry pulled his wand out of its sheathe and raised it, preparing to cast the spell that revealed the perimeter of the spell. He looked at Ron for the signal to begin, but the redhead had his eyes on something above Harry's head.

Harry looked back, just in time to see a huge owl swoop in and grab his wand with its talons.

"Hey!" Harry shouted as it sped off. Ignoring the calls of the two Weasleys, he grabbed his broom and kicked off. The owl seemed to have been waiting for Harry to follow it, because as soon as it saw him chasing it, it sped up and abruptly turned to the right.

Harry followed hot on its tail, eyes narrowed against the wind. It was a lot like trying to catch a snitch, he mused. He hadn't been able to play Quidditch for a while - much too long, in his opinion.

He leaned forward on his broom, trying to make himself as aerodynamic as possible. It worked; he drew closer to the owl. His hand stretched out and he willed himself to go faster. The very tips of his fingers brushed the owl's tail feathers and…

… there was a slight squeezing sensation and his ears popped familiarly as he passed through what was unmistakably a Concealment Charm. He frowned and came to a stop, hovering in the air and looking around.

The owl, with his wand still gripped tight in its feet, came cautiously up to him and settled on the handle of his broom. He reached out and slowly and, when it made no move against him, took his wand back.

"Did you lead me here?" he asked. The owl blinked, which he took as a yes. "Why? What's being hidden out here?"

The owl hooted and pushed off of the broom, grabbing at the handle and then flying off a few feet, looking back at Harry as if to ask Are you coming? The Auror gripped his wand tight in his fist and followed the owl, eyes constantly scanning the ground for any danger.

After about five minutes, the owl swooped down, Harry close behind it. They landed in a clearing, and Harry's mouth dropped. He was looking at what appeared to be a huge mansion. It looked to be in excellent condition; the paint was fresh, the windows clean and not a spot of dirt or mold anywhere.

"Does this have anything to do with the dragon poaching?" Harry asked, and the owl hooted softly. "Right then. I need to get inside."

After a moment's deliberation, he cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm on himself and the owl and simply walked up to the front door. He pointed his wand at the door knob.

"Alohomora," he whispered. There was a click, and he carefully opened the door and slipped inside. The house appeared to be empty. No one came running when his footsteps echoed loudly throughout the foyer, or when he gave a low, appreciative whistle at the opulence.

The owl, who had been sitting on his shoulder, suddenly took off down a hallway, and Harry followed, running to keep up. They went up a set of stairs and down another hall, and finally they stopped outside of a large wooden door.

Harry raised his wand and entered the room. The only thing in it was a wardrobe. Eyebrow raised in confusion, Harry cast every Dark Magic detecting spell he knew. When nothing happened, he approached and pulled open the doors.

It appeared to have an Undetectable Extension spell cast on it, for inside it was a full sized marble staircase leading almost straight down through a hole in the floor.

"What do you think?" he asked the owl. "Should I go down, or go back and call for backup?"

The owl clacked its beak and leaned towards the staircase. Well, it hadn't led him wrong so far, so Harry was going to trust its judgement.

"Right then," he said. He cast a Lumos and carefully stepped onto the first stair. When nothing happened, he descended. It got colder and colder the farther down he went, so much so that he had to recast his Warming Charm to keep himself from shivering.

When he got to the bottom, he was met with two hallways.

"Left or right?" he asked, and the owl hopped off his shoulder and started flying down the left hallway. "Left it is, then." He took a deep breath and raised his wand defensively, then followed his feathered guide.

The tunnel seemed to go on forever. It was very windy, even doubling back in a few places. Harry was panting slightly by the time he got to the end of it, and the owl, who was sitting on the floor, gave him an annoyed look, as if irritated that he had made it wait.

"Well, sorry," Harry snapped. "Not all of us can fly, you know." He looked up at the door the owl was sitting in front of. It was unlocked when he tried the handle, and as silently as he could, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was the warmth. It was so powerful that Harry immediately released his hold on the warming spell he had placed around himself.

The second thing he noticed was the smell. It was like rotting flesh and feces, but there was also the thick smell of smoke. The air was stagnant and stale, and Harry cast a quick Bubble-Head Charm to prevent himself from choking on it.

The owl seemed to have no problem breathing, as the first thing it did when Harry opened the door was lift itself into the air and fly deeper into the room. Harry put more energy into his Lumos and it flared brighter, bright enough for him to see what was causing the stench.

He gasped. It was dragons.

The whole room was filled with dragons locked in cages - or prison cells - built into the wall. They all started growling and hissing and snarling when the light flared up, but Harry paid that no mind. He walked through the room, which had two rows of cells, one on either side.

The dragons were in terrible condition, and Harry's blood boiled to see what was being done to such majestic and rare creatures. They were all extremely thin, and most of them had dried blood caked on their scales from wounds Harry couldn't see.

As he passed, most of them, the ones strong enough to actually move, lunged at him, snapping their jaws and trying to reach him through the bars. Harry made sure to keep as close to the middle of the room as he could, because even weak as these dragons obviously were, they were still more than capable of killing him.

A loud hoot from the other side of the room made him pick up his pace, and he hurried over to where his owl friend was waiting. It was seated in front of the last cage in the room, kept separate from the others. Curious, Harry stood next to it and peered inside the cell.

The dragon inside was different from all the others, in more than one way. While most of the others were breeds that Harry was familiar with, he couldn't remember ever reading or hearing about the type of beast that was staring back at him.

It wasn't as big as some of the other dragons, only about ten feet high and very slim. There were no spikes going down its back or coming out of the tip of its long tail, though it did have a rather large crest lying flat at the back of its head.

Its scales were pure white, and glistened in the low light, even as covered in blood and grime as they were. On its chest, however, were strange markings. There were what appeared to be black slashes crisscrossing the scales, though Harry could see no actual wounds and assumed that it was the dragon equivalent of a birthmark.

Wicked looking claws curved out of its feet, and it appeared to have dextile fingers on its front two. The things that captured Harry's attention the most was its eyes. They were on the front of its face, not the sides, and were a strange shade of dark grey. They regarded him curiously, though not without a rather intense air, and held a gleam of intelligence not present in the other beasts.

"Hello," Harry whispered softly. The dragon reached forward with its long muzzle and made a soft churring sound, which Harry took as a greeting. "You're not like the other dragons, are you? Don't worry, I'm going to get you all out soon. I have to leave now, but I'll be back with help."

He reached down and gently picked up the owl. Letting it settle on his shoulder, he cast one last look at the dragon before hurrying back to the door. They travelled back down the hallway, and when they reached the staircase the owl started heading up it, but Harry called it back.

"I want to see where the other tunnel leads," he whispered. The owl fluffed up in annoyance, but let Harry lead them down the corridor. Compared to the one leading to the dragons, this one was incredibly short. It only took them a few minutes to get to the end.

Harry stopped dead when he finally walked into a large cavern, understanding and horror filling him in equal measure. He didn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't a huge stone ring, surrounded on all sides by bleachers. The ring had to be at least thirty feet across and was sunken into the floor, and large dark stains were splashed across the floor and walls.

"Dragon fighting," he said. The owl hooted inquisitively. "It's a dragon fighting ring, not a poaching ring. I've got to tell Charlie."

Turning on his heel, Harry sprinted back to the staircase and flew up the stairs. Panting, he dashed outside and mounted his broom, then kicked off and started the long journey back to the reserve.

… oO()Oo …

"Harry, how did you even find this place?" Ron asked quietly, looking around the ring with wide eyes. Charlie looked at him expectantly.

"The owl," Harry answered. "It took my wand because it was trying to lead me here."

"Strange," Ron mused, but Charlie didn't say anything, which Harry found odd. "Where are the dragons?"

"Down that other hallway," Harry said. "It's a bit of a long walk."

"Then let's go," Charlie said. "The longer we stay here, the higher the risk of the people in charge of this operation coming back."

Harry nodded and took the lead, using his wand to light up his path. None of them spoke during the fifteen minutes it took them to reach the room where the dragons were being kept, and it wasn't until Harry opened the door did his two companions make a sound.

Charlie gasped and Ron cursed loudly, causing all the dragons to swivel their heads towards them.

"Stay as close to the middle as you can," Harry said as he began to walk through the room for the second time that day. "The dragon I told you about it in the last cell."

The strange white dragon was waiting for them when they reached it, sitting with its feet tucked neatly underneath it and its long tail wrapped around them. Charlie narrowed his eyes when he saw it. Going right up to the cage, he leaned forward and studied it for a few seconds.

"We need to break this one out," he said. "Today."

"Charlie, are you mad?" Ron hissed. "We can't let the poachers know that we know where they are, and stealing one of their dragons is a sure way to do that."

Charlie turned to them angrily. "You don't understand," he said. "He's dying. Look at that band around his front foot. See the runes carved into it? They're killing him, slowly." Harry peered closer and, sure enough, there was a thick metal band wrapped tightly around the dragon's foot. "Nothing deserves that. You can't just expect me to walk away from him without doing anything to help, can you?"

Harry looked from Charlie's earnest expression to Ron's torn one, unsure about what to do. Apparently, they were taking too long to decide, because Charlie scowled.

"I'm getting him out whether or not you help," he said. He pulled out his wand and backed away from the cell.

"Charlie, wait!" Harry shouted, but the redhead had pointed his wand and shouted, "Reducto!" before Harry had even finished his warning. With a thunderous boom, the thick metal bars of the cell burst inward, and everything was shrouded in dust.

Coughing, Harry peered cautiously through the thick cloud. When nothing immediately jumped out and attacked them, he assumed that the dragon had been injured in the blast. But when the dust cleared, they were surprised to see the beast crouched in the far corner of the cell, crest raised threateningly and teeth bared.

It hissed at Charlie, and it looked as if it was reprimanding the redhead for almost killing them all. When it was satisfied, it snorted angrily and then started walking towards the door. It snapped at any dragon that dared to so much as growl at it, and Harry stared after it in confusion.

"I've never seen a dragon behave like that," he said.

"Yes, well," said Charlie. "He's a special one, alright. I've… had a few encounters with him around the reserve, you could say."

"As long as it isn't going to kill us, I'm not going to question it," Ron said. He began walking, calling over his shoulder, "Hemlock is going to have a field day when we tell him about this."


	4. Chapter 4

Charlie proved very proficient when it came to Reductor Curses, as he used one every time they came across a doorway that the dragon was too big to fit through. Luckily, they were far enough underground that the structural integrity of the compound wasn't compromised.

When they finally reached the surface, the first thing the dragon did was take a deep breath and let out an ear-splitting roar. The three wizards immediately clapped their hands over their ears and crouched low.

When it was finished, the dragon promptly snapped its jaw shut and stared at them expectantly.

"It's got a very high-pitched voice for a dragon," Ron remarked. "I guess it's because it's so small."

The dragon hissed and narrowed its eyes at the redhead.

"He doesn't like it when you call him an 'it'," Charlie said, walking over to where they had stashed their brooms in a large bush. "And even though he's small - don't growl at me, you know you're a small dragon - even though he's small, he can still eat you."

The dragon shot Ron a look that Harry could only describe as smug. Charlie came back and handed the Aurors their brooms, and the three of them mounted and kicked off.

"Oi," Charlie called down to the dragon. "Just follow us back to the reserve."

"Charlie, it's a dragon," Ron said exasperatedly. "It can't understand you. Honestly, I'm surprised that it hasn't tried to eat any of us yet."

"Like I said, he's special," Charlie said. His brow furrowed when he looked down at the dragon, who was still sitting on the ground, staring up at the three wizards. The redhead flew lower. "What's wrong? We don't have all day, you know, so anytime you'd like to join us…"

The dragon crouched down and bared its back, and then it spread its wings. The right one snapped out fully - pale leathery skin stretched tight over thick bone and attached to powerful shoulders - but the left one was obviously broken. The tip of a bone poked through the tough hide and dried blood was caked all around it, and it couldn't even open fully.

Charlie winced and sucked in a sharp breath.

"That looks bad," he said sympathetically. The dragon folded up its wings again, wincing as it did so, and glared at Charlie, as if to say, No shit.

"Well, can you just… run behind us?" Charlie asked. The dragon glared for a moment longer, but eventually it nodded once. Harry and Ron gaped at it. I knew that dragon was smarter than all the others, Harry thought, but it's almost as if it's… human.

"Let's get going," Charlie called, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. He turned his broom and started zooming in the direction of the reserve compound, Harry and Ron following close behind. A quick look down revealed that the dragon was actually following them. It would stop every few moments and sniff around a tree or bush, but then it would run to catch up and trot behind them, a content look on its face.

It took them a few hours to get back to HQ, and by the time they landed outside the shed the dragon was dragging its feet and its head was down as it trudged up to them, sides heaving. Harry made a sympathetic face.

"It-" he started.

"He," Charlie absentmindedly corrected.

"He," Harry said, "looks terrible."

"Well, what did you expect?" asked Ron, of all people. "I mean, we just rescued it - him, sorry - from a dungeon where he was obviously tortured, or at least forced to fight other dragons and then not tended to. Would you be up for a million mile run after going through that for God knows how long?"

"Wow, Ron," Charlie said, tossing the brooms into the shed and slamming the door. "That was surprisingly insightful and empathetic."

Ron blushed. "Yes, well-"

The dragon made a low rumbling sound and looked sternly at Charlie. The redhead smiled grimly.

"Yeah, I didn't forget," he said. "Let's get you to the infirmary." As he and the dragon started trudging through the snow, he called back, "Feel free to use my office to call your boss. Vlad is always locked in his office at this time, and I don't want to bother him."

He and the dragon disappeared around the corner of the lobby and Harry and Ron went inside it, walking up to the receptionist's desk.

"Hi, Eve," Harry said, and Eve blushed.

"Hello, Auror Potter," she said, smiling shyly. "What can I help you with?"

"We're looking for Charlie Weasley's office," Ron told her.

"Oh, his office is actually one of the guest rooms," she said. "Go to the hall with the bedrooms in it, and the one you're looking for is all the way at the end of the hall on the left."

"Thanks." Harry smiled at her and her blush deepened. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Come on," he said, grabbing Harry's sleeve and dragging him to the door that led to the dorms. They walked all the way down the hall and entered Charlie's office. It looked a lot like Vladimir's, they noticed. There was a desk sitting in the middle of the room, with bookshelves and a filing cabinet on either side. Behind the desk was a large fireplace, and a clear glass jar sat on the mantel.

The Aurors went to the fireplace, and Harry grabbed a handful of Floo powder. He used his wand to light a fire, then he tossed the powder into the flames and stuck his head in.

"Head Auror Hemlock's office!" he said (very, very clearly). In a moment, he was looking up at Hemlock's irritated face.

"Yes, what is it, Auror Potter?" he snapped.

"Um, we've had a breakthrough regarding the poachers," he said. "It's not actually a poaching operation, but a dragon fighting ring."

Hemlock's brow furrowed. "Dragon fighting?"

"Yes, sir. We've located their base of operations, and inside it were the missing dragons and a huge stone ring surrounded by bleachers. Charlie Weasley is positive that it's dragon fighting."

"This is more serious than we thought, then." Hemlock was silent for a moment, and Harry subtly shifted his weight so that he wasn't leaning completely on his knees. "Alright, Auror Potter. I'm sending a team out there as soon as I can scrounge up enough Aurors, but in the meantime I want you to investigate. Find out how many people are involved with the operation, and who they are. I want updates whenever you find anything, even if you don't think it's significant."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He pulled his head out of the flames and sat back on his heels, shaking the ashes out of his hair. "Did you get all that?" he asked Ron. The redhead nodded.

"It might be a while until Hemlock is able to send in backup," he said. "Last I heard, most of the really good Aurors are undercover investigating a wizard accused of selling magic-infused drugs to Muggles."

Harry winced. "Sounds nasty." Standing up, he stretched his back and groaned. "Hey, let's go to the infirmary, see how that dragon is doing."

Ron gave him a funny look. "Why?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. We might find a clue or something." He blanched at Ron's skeptical look. "Alright, I just want to go see it. You saw it out in the forest, it's not a normal dragon."

Ron sighed. "Fine. But if it so much as puffs smoke in our direction I'm making you do all the paperwork for this case by yourself."

"Deal," Harry said, grinning. He crossed the small room and pulled open the door, and came face to face with a very frazzled looking Charlie.

"Oh, good," said the redhead. "I was just about to kick you out. I have things I need to do."

Ron scoffed, but didn't say anything as he passed by his brother. Harry smiled at Charlie before following his partner. Together they walked back to the main lobby and went straight for the row of fireplaces. They Flood to the infirmary.

The room they ended up in was huge. It looked a lot like the hospital wing from Hogwarts, actually. Rows of sterile white beds lined the walls, each one surrounded by sterile white curtains and next to a sterile white bedside table. All the beds were empty, but there was a small group of people in the center of the room, dressed in sterile white robes.

"It's very sterile," Harry remarked. "And white."

Ron snorted. A young Mediwitch noticed them and walked over, smiling pleasantly.

"Hello," she said. "May I help you?"

"Yeah, we're looking for a dragon that was brought here," Ron said. "It's smallish, white, has a really high voice."

The witch let out a small laugh, as if Ron had just told a particularly funny joke.

"The dragons are treated in the second building," she said. "If you'll follow me…"

The two Aurors walked behind the witch as she led them to the very back corner of the room. Nestled in the corner where two walls met was a plain wooden door. The witch turned the knob and stood to the side, holding the door open for them.

They thanked her as they passed through, and then the door closed and they were in another world. Unlike the hospital for humans, the dragon infirmary was not sterile and white. It was full of cells, much like the one Harry had discovered the strange dragon in, but unlike those, these cages were large and filled with straw and hay. Each cell had easy access to a large trough of water.

Like the room that held the dragons in the fighting ring, this room was very warm. There were only two dragons here currently, one of them being the white dragon that Harry, Ron, and Charlie had rescued. The Aurors made immediately for him, greeting the three cheerful dragonologists that they passed.

The dragon was asleep when they reached the cell, and Harry took a moment to study it. It's wing was tied to a splint, and rested against a pile of hay. Thick white bandages were wrapped around its middle, tail and two of its legs, a few red splotches visible among the white.

"Look, they left that metal band on his leg," Harry said, pointing to where the dragon's head rested on his front legs. Immediately the grey eyes opened, and Harry froze. But the dragon didn't do anything, just stared at them with slightly unfocused eyes, and Harry figured that they must have given him a painkilling potion.

"I thought Charlie said that thing was killing him," Ron said. "Why wouldn't they Healers remove it?"

"No clue," Harry said. "Maybe they don't know how."

Ron just made a noncommittal sound. After a few more moments of staring at the dragon, he cleared his throat.

"Right," he said. "As interesting as this is, I have other things to be doing. Coming?"

Harry shook his head. "In a bit." Ron shrugged and walked back to the door. Harry's attention returned to the dragon. "You must be in quite a bit of pain for them to have given you that much potion."

The dragon, who had been drunkenly biting at his own shadow, looked up. He made a small rumbling noise deep in his throat, and Harry laughed.

"I have to go, but I'll see if I can find anything on that bracelet of yours," he promised. He cautiously reached through the bars and, when the dragon didn't attack him, patted his muzzle. The dragon's eyes slipped shut halfway and he tilted his head, rumbling happily in what Harry decided was the dragon equivalent of purring.

Laughing, he left his hand there for a moment more before pulling it away and turning. He exited the dragon infirmary, then Flood back to lobby building. He found Ron sitting in an armchair by a fire, reading a newspaper, so he decided to head to the library and see what he could find on the runes etched onto the strange dragon's bracelet.

He first checked the R section, and pulled out all of the books he could find on translating runes. He flipped through the first one quickly, eyes scanning the pages for the symbols he had seen on the metal band.

The first three books offered no help, and by the time he closed the thick tome he was reading and reached for the fourth one, it was hours later and he was exhausted. Yet something wouldn't let him stop. He didn't know if it was the boredom or the fact that the longer the dragon went with that bracelet on, the more his health decayed, but Harry stretched in his chair, sighed, and started reading.

The fourth book was different from all the others. It wasn't a translating guide or a book detailing the meaning of all the runes. It held information on how different runes could affect different things.

The chapters were about the effects runes could have on wizards and witches, Conjured items, Muggles, and… Animagi.

Harry's eyes widened. Maybe the strange dragon was an Animagus. That would certainly explain how smart it was, and why it didn't try to attack any of the witches or wizards around the reserve.

Quickly, he flipped to the eighth chapter, Runes and the Effects They Have on Animagi. He skipped the introduction and went straight to the uses for runes on Animagi.

Runes affect Animagi differently than they do normal witches and wizards. While all non-Muggles are endowed with some degree of magic property, Animagi are beyond that. Their shifting abilities don't need conduits to be controlled, and as such, Animagi are considered by some to be above the average witch or wizard. When Animagi were first discovered hundreds of years ago, there was much fear from the Wizarding World over the extent of the shifting abilities and what Animagi would be able to do with their powers. It was because of this fear that the Ministry of Magic passed the Animagus Registration Act, the law that requires all Animagi to register themselves.

But not everyone was satisfied with this. An unknown group of witches and wizards with very advanced knowledge of ancient runes banded together and created a series of runes that, when in physics contact with an Animagus, will trap them in either their human or Animagus form, depending on what form they are in when exposed to the runes. For decades witches, wizards, and many animals were all found with runes either etched directly into them or onto a something such as clothing or jewelry that they were wearing. The Department of Mysteries was able to investigate and discovered the anti-Animagus cult, and forced them into disclosing the spell that would reverse the effects of the runes. The incantation, when performed correctly, will return an Animagus back to their human form or simply nullify the effects of the runes.

Below that was a spell and a diagram showing how to do the wand movements. Harry allowed himself a brief celebration in the form of a very loud whoop, and then he made a copy of the page and stuffed it into his pocket. He left the books on the table and left the library.

Ron was sitting on his bed when Harry entered their room, and he looked up with an annoyed look on his face.

"Where have you been?" he demanded. "I've been looking for you for hours."

Harry gave him a sheepish look. "Sorry. I've been in the library doing research." Ron looked at him skeptically. "No, really! I was looking up those runes we saw on the dragon's bracelet."

"You're starting to become obsessed with that dragon," Ron remarked.

"I am not!" Harry protested. "I was just bored and I needed something to do, so I figured I might as well see if I could help save the stupid thing's life."

"Right. Did you find anything, then?"

Harry pulled out the piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Ron. The redhead's eyebrows shot up when he finished reading it.

"I can't believe they actually found a way to repress the Animagus transformation. Why don't more people know about this?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess because it was so dangerous to Animagi. And then when people finally learned to not be afraid of them, the Ministry saw no reason to make this public."

Ron hummed. "Well, this spell looks complicated. You'd better get practicing." He laughed at Harry's sour look. "Hey, you wanted to help, remember?"

"Yeah, I know." Harry pulled out his wand. "Let's get to it, then."

… oO()Oo …

It took him about twenty minutes to properly learn the spell. When Ron finally deemed it adequate enough to not accidentally set anything on fire, the brunette headed back to the infirmary. There were two Healers standing outside the dragon's cage when Harry entered, and they looked up when he approached.

"Hello, Auror Potter," one of them said.

"Hi," Harry replied. "What are you doing, if I may ask?"

"Just a standard checkup," the other Healer said. "You know, making sure that the potions we gave him aren't causing any negative reactions, checking on the wounds, that sort of thing."

"Have you made any progress on that band on his leg?" They furrowed their brows.

"We haven't had the time to look up the runes," the witch said, "but we will eventually."

"Oh, no need," Harry said. "I already looked them up. I found a spell that should return him to his human state."

Both Healers gaped at him.

"You know he's…?"

"An Animagus, yeah. It wasn't that hard to figure out, actually. What I'm having trouble with, though, is why there's an unregistered Animagus - a dragon Animagus, no less - getting involved with an illegal dragon fighting operation."

The witch gave him a wide-eyed look. She waved her wand and muttered a quiet spell, and then the thin piece of wood in her hands glowed green for a second. Harry narrowed his eyes, but didn't pay it much mind.

"Move aside, please," he ordered. The Healers didn't move, and Harry pointed his wand at them. "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. Move. Now."

With one last reluctant glance at each other, they both stepped aside and Harry walked forward until he was right in front of the cage. The dragon looked much more alert, and seemed to have been listening in on their conversation.

He raised his crest and growled when Harry made to unlock the cell door.

"Oh, shut up, you," he snapped. "I know your secret, and you're not getting out of this."

He unlocked the door and it swung open. Raising his wand, he began the movements and said the incantation that would supposedly return the dragon to his human form. As soon as he finished, there was a loud click and the metal band around the dragon's leg fell onto the stone floor.

Immediately, shudders wracked the Animagus' frame. The door to the infirmary burst open with a loud bang.

"Harry, don't!" Charlie called, but it was too late. With one last shiver, the dragon began shrinking. In only a few seconds there was a very thin, dirty, and unconscious Draco Malfoy collapsing into Harry's arms.


	5. Chapter 5

"You have a lot of explaining to do," Harry said, glaring sternly at Charlie. The redhead was sitting in the chair behind the desk in his office, with both Harry and Ron towering over him angrily. "Why is Draco Malfoy - an illegal unregistered Animagus - at the reserve, why did we find him locked in a cell, and why did you already know about this and not tell us?"

Harry, after snapping out of his shock, had let Draco fall onto the floor, much to the anger of the Healers. They had lifted the blonde and taken him to the infirmary for humans, yelling at Harry the whole time. The brunette had in turn started yelling at Charlie.

The redhead hadn't reacted, just waited patiently until Harry had yelled himself hoarse.

"Are you finished?" he had asked. Harry glared. "Let's go get my brother and go to my office, and I promise I'll explain everything."

So they had picked up Ron from the room he was sharing with Harry, and then went to Charlie's office.

"Yes, he's unregistered," Charlie said. "But can you blame him? Do you know how much danger he'd be in if the public found out that he can turn into a dragon at will? You know as well as I do that there are still people out there who are incredibly pissed that he didn't go to Azkaban for what he did during the war."

"Why is he here, though?" Ron asked. "Does he have anything to do with the dragon fighting?"

"No," Charlie said. "He was probably just kidnapped like the rest of the dragons. As for why he's here, it's so that he can stretch his Animagus form."

"Stretch his Animagus form?" Harry repeated. "What the hell does that mean?"

"You two aren't Animagi, are you?" Charlie asked. They both shook their heads. "Well, being an Animagus is hard, even after learning how to control your transformations. It's like learning how to write. Once you know how, it isn't hard, but if you want your handwriting to be neat and actually readable, you have to constantly practice. Draco comes here almost every weekend to spend some time in his dragon form."

Harry was quiet for a moment as he digested this news. "How many people know?" he asked.

Charlie sighed. "Everyone here at the reserve, Pansy Parkinson, and McGonagall."

"Why does McGonagall know?" Ron asked.

Charlie gave him a confused look. "Because he works at Hogwarts."

Harry's eyes widened as he remembered two seemingly unconnected things.

"Gran said that Draco was busy. But she was weird when she said it. She seemed worried. And sad."

"The Potions professor at Hogwarts was reported missing on Saturday. I thought that I'd be able to solve the case faster than Dobbs and Robbins, that's all."

"Draco's the Potions professor," he said. Ron looked at him curiously. "Parkinson's missing person's case, that she was so adamant to be put on, remember?"

Ron's mouth fell open when he finally got it. "No wonder she was so happy when Hemlock put her on the case!"

"Yeah," Charlie said, drawing their attention once again. "She Firecalled me last Saturday and told me that Draco had been reported missing. Vlad and I figured that he got into a fight or was lost or something, so we went out to find him. That's when we discovered the traces of Dark trapping magic. And that owl, the one who stole your wand and led you to the poachers' base, that's Draco's owl."

"So, that wand it was holding was Malfoy's?" Ron asked. Charlie nodded.

"That's when I realized that Draco had been kidnapped. Before, we all thought he had just sensed the Dark Magic around the reserve and taken off without telling anyone."

"I can't believe that git has such a powerful Animagus," Ron muttered.

"Well," Charlie said, "the more powerful and pure-blooded your bloodline, the more likely it is that your Animagus form is something magical in nature. Plus, it makes sense, if you think about it. Your Animagus is a reflection of your inner traits and personality, right? Draco's personality is a lot like that of a dragon."

"How so?" Harry asked.

"He places a lot of value on material things, for one," Charlie said. "And he prefers solitude over the company of others most days. He's very protective of those he loves, is a survivor, very vain… Need I go on?"

They both shook their heads.

"But if that metal band kept him trapped in his dragon form," Ron said, "whoever kidnapped him had to have known that he's not a real dragon." There was an uncomfortable pause.

"That's despicable," Harry said after a moment, and Charlie hummed in agreement.

"We'll need to tell Hemlock," Ron said. Charlie's eyes widened.

"You can't! He'll go to Azkaban for not registering his Animagus form!"

Ron shrugged. "He should have thought of that when he decided to not register."

Harry squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't know, Ron," he said. "They may have gotten rid of the Dementors, but Azkaban's still a pretty terrible place. And it's not like he's doing any harm."

"Harry, we're Aurors," Ron reminded him. "We can't break the laws we enforce, and we can't allow others to, either."

"How about this," Harry said. "We'll call Parkinson and her partner, and have them come here. We'll see what they say, then see whether or not to tell Hemlock."

Ron groaned, but acquiesced.

"Great," said Charlie. "I'm going to call Pansy. Why don't you two just… go let this sink in, alright? Try to get some sleep, too. It's been a long day."

The two Aurors nodded and went back to their own room, where they changed out of their Auror robes and put on regular clothes. They both sank down onto their beds and nothing else was said as they tried to get some sleep.

… oO()Oo …

Loud knocking woke them up early the next morning. Harry groaned as he rolled out of bed, and he opened the door, yawning.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Pansy Parkinson asked innocently, but Harry knew that she knew he had been asleep.

"What, Parkinson?" he asked, irritated.

"It's nine in the morning," she said. "We need to go talk to Draco. My partner and I will meet you in the infirmary."

Suddenly remembering all that had happened the previous day, Harry was instantly more alert.

"Right," he said." See you in a bit."

He closed the door and went to wake up his partner. It took a bit of convincing, but eventually he got both himself and Ron dressed in their Auror robes and at least semi-awake. They Apparated to the infirmary, since neither of them felt much like Flooing.

When they arrived, Parkinson and a short, dark-haired man were sitting in the chairs next to one Draco Malfoy, who was still out cold. He was clean, though, and dressed in clean hospital issued pyjamas. Harry thought that it just made him look even thinner; he could clearly see the bones in his wrists, and there were dark bags underneath his eyes.

Charlie was also there, and he stood when he noticed the two Aurors.

"Morning," he greeted, smiling tentatively. Harry smiled back, though Ron had gone into what Harry had dubbed Auror-mode, and only nodded. They approached the bed, and Ron took out his wand. He pointed it at Malfoy.

"Rennervate!" he said, and Malfoy began to stir. His eyes fluttered and then opened, and he looked around himself in confusion. His brows drew together when they stopped on Parkinson.

"Pansy?" he said. "What's going on?"

"Why don't you tell us?" Ron interrupted. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Malfoy sat up and narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he looked around, but then he saw Charlie and relaxed a tiny bit when the redhead nodded.

"I was here," he said. "At the reserve, and I was out flying…" Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he looked in alarm at Harry and Ron.

"We know," Harry said simply, and Malfoy's face twisted in displeasure.

"Oh, excellent. Anyways, I was out flying," he said again, "and then I wasn't."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean just what I said. I couldn't move, and I fell, hard. I could feel the Dark Magic, and I tried to shift back to human, but I couldn't. After a few hours, some wizards came and Stunned me, and when I woke up, I was in a frankly disgusting cell with a hideous metal band around my wrist."

He looked down at his left arm and smiled grimly.

"I don't know how long I was down there, fighting other dragons, but then I remember seeing you," he said, pointing at Harry, "and you broke me out. And then I was brought back here, and you came and did some weird spell… and I can't remember anything after that."

There was a brief silence after he finished his tale. Parkinson's partner cleared his throat.

"You know it is illegal to be an unregistered Animagus?" he asked Malfoy. The blonde scowled.

"Obviously," he snapped. "But can you imagine what my life would have been like if it was available to the public that I can turn into a dragon? Stuff like this would happen to me all the time, only it wouldn't be accidental."

"Still," the man pressed, but Harry interrupted.

"One problem at a time. Hemlock is sending out a backup team soon, but until then we're on our own."

"So, what do we do?" Parkinson asked.

"I say we check out the place where you found Malfoy," Ron said. "See if we can find anything that can give us a clue as to how many people we're dealing with, or who these people are."

"Good idea," Harry said. "When should we leave?"

"Later," Parkinson said. "In a few hours, at least."

"What? Why not now?" Harry asked. The witch glared at him.

"My best friend, who was declared missing almost a week ago, was just found in a torture chamber surrounded by blood and dragon shit. Excuse me for wanting to spend some time with him."

Harry put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Later it is, then."

He and Ron ended up grabbing two brooms from the shed and playing a Seeker's game of Quidditch. They didn't get to finish, as it was much too cold for their Warming Charms to be effective for very long.

Bored, the two of them made their way to their room and played Exploding Snap until they were interrupted hours later by a knock on the door. It was Parkinson, and she gave Harry a once over when he opened the door.

"Let's go," she said, and then she turned on her heel and stalked down the hall. Harry turned to Ron, who raised an eyebrow.

"You heard the witch," he said. "Let's go."

… oO()Oo …

The mansion was empty when they got there. The cages were devoid of any and all life, though the filth and blood still remained. Parkinson curled her lip when she saw it.

"I can't believe Draco was forced to live in these conditions for so long."

Normally, Harry would take those as the words of a spoiled pureblood with no concept of what is means to be humble, but for once he had to agree. Ron and Parkinson's partner, who they learned was named Edward Iliacus, returned from their sweep of the upper levels. The four of them met in the foyer.

"Anything?" Harry asked. Ron shook his head.

"Nothing. Some of the rooms hadn't even been opened. Whoever these people are, they are amazing at covering their tracks."

"They even managed to conceal their magical signatures," Iliacus said. "Wherever they are, we won't be able to find them unless they want to be found or we stumble upon them accidentally."

Parkinson bristled angrily. "Let's tell Charlie," she said. "He knows this reserve better than anyone except for Vladimir."

The four of them flew back to the reserve and headed straight for Charlie's office. He didn't answer when they knocked, and Eve, when they asked her, told them that she had seen him go up to Vladimir's office, so that was where they headed.

Ron knocked on the door when they marched up the staircase, and when nobody immediately answered, raised his fist again and rapped it against the wood. It flew open to reveal a very dishevelled Charlie, who gave them all an irritated look.

"Can I help you?" he snapped.

Ron pushed past him and the other three Aurors followed suit. Vladimir was sitting in his chair, and he looked just as mussed up as Charlie did. He was breathing a little faster than normal. Ron turned slightly green, and Harry gave him a concerned look. Was his partner coming down with something?

"Yes, actually," Parkinson said in response to Charlie's question. "We just got back from checking out the place where Potter discovered the dragons."

Both dragonologists perked up.

"And?" Vladimir asked. "What did you find?"

"Nothing. The place was deserted," Harry said. "We couldn't even find their magical signatures."

Charlie swore and ran a hand through his hair. He sighed heavily, then turned to Vladimir.

"What do you think, Vlad?" he asked.

"I think," Vladimir said, frowning slightly, "that they are most likely still in Russia."

"What makes you say that?" Iliacus asked.

"Because, you said the dragons were no longer at their base, correct?" The Aurors all nodded. "Then they still have the beasts. And they may be clever, but even they won't be able to smuggle thirteen dragons out of the country. Besides, if they are forcing the dragons to fight, they will want to stay where people know to come to their… shows."

"Makes sense," Parkinson said. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we sleep," said Ron. "We've been out for hours, it's late, and I'm tired. Tomorrow we'll inform Hemlock."

Parkinson and Iliacus suddenly looked sheepish.

"Ah, about that," the witch said. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"What?" he growled.

"We may or may not have told Hemlock that we were going to Hogwarts, not Russia. McGonagall's covering for us."

Ron sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Perfect," he said exasperatedly. "Fantastic. What is this, Lie To Hemlock About Everything Day?"

"Ron, calm down," Harry said. "It's not a big deal. So what if Hemlock doesn't know? Both cases are going to get solved - one already is - and what he doesn't know won't kill him."

Ron snorted, but didn't say anything else.

"If you lot are done," Charlie said, "Vlad and I were in the middle of something."

Ron's face turned green again and Parkinson smirked.

"Sorry, Charlie," she said. "We'll leave you to it. Come on, boys."

She led the way back down the stairs and to the hall of bedrooms. She and Iliacus headed to their own rooms while Ron and Harry entered theirs. The redhead immediately started getting ready for bed, and he was already under his blankets and half asleep by the time Harry managed to change into a t-shirt and a pair of sweats and brush his teeth.

Harry lay in his bed for a while, but sleep wouldn't come. After what he judged to be about an hour, he got up silently and padded into the hall. It was late, and most people were asleep or, at the very least, in their rooms. Eve wasn't at her desk when he walked into the lobby, and most of the fires had died down to smoldering piles of embers, so Harry used a Lumos to guide his way.

For reasons he didn't understand, he found himself heading to the infirmary. He wanted to check on Malfoy, make sure the prick wasn't plotting to murder them all in their sleep, or something. Surprisingly, the blonde was awake when he entered the room.

"Nox," he whispered, and he stood behind a corner and just observed the blonde for a while. He was using his wand to draw in midair, and after a bit Harry could start to make out distinct features. Wings, a tail, a short muzzle… Malfoy was drawing a dragon, though it looked much different from the blonde's own Animagus form.

This dragon was short and stout, and had rather stubby legs and wings. It was breathing a tongue of flame into the air, and Malfoy sighed deeply when he finished. There was such a look of sadness on his face that Harry found himself moving forward without consciously deciding to do so.

"Who is that?" he asked softly, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace of the night. Surprisingly, Malfoy didn't snap at him.

"A dragon I killed," he said with a bitter edge to his voice. "It was my third fight, and he just wouldn't stop attacking me no matter how many times I injured him. He ended up bleeding out in the middle of the ring. They gave me extra dinner that night for my victory."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, because he didn't know what else to say. For a while they simply sat, staring at the glowing gold dragon, and then Malfoy shook his head and scowled at Harry.

"Why are you here?" he asked, though there wasn't as much venom in those words as there could have been.

"I couldn't sleep," Harry said.

"And so you decided to come visit me?" Malfoy asked, disbelievingly. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

Harry bristled. "I didn't have to come. I could have just left you here to stew in your own self-pity all night."

"Why didn't you, then?" Malfoy asked, sneering.

"I honestly don't know," Harry said, angrily standing up. "Dragon you seemed to like me, and I thought human you might deign to be civil and at least try to put the past behind us. Clearly I was wrong."

He was halfway to the door before he heard a soft call of, "Wait," from behind him. He turned and crossed his arms, glaring expectantly. Malfoy was fiddling nervously with his blanket.

"I… I wouldn't be opposed to the company," he said finally. Harry stared at him for a second, trying to see if he was being serious, but when Malfoy did nothing but bite his lip and look at Harry anxiously, he smiled and sat back down.

"So, why are you still awake?" he asked.

"I'm on a weird schedule," Malfoy said. "I'm used to sleeping during the day and staying up all night, since that's when the fights were."

Harry's curiosity was piqued. "What were they like? The fights, I mean."

Malfoy closed his eyes and turned his face slightly away from Harry.

"Bad."

And Harry may not have been the best at social interactions that didn't have anything to do with his job, but even the most moronic of people could tell that Malfoy didn't want to talk about it. Harry wracked his brain for a safe topic.

"Teddy misses you." He blinked in surprise at himself. He hadn't meant to bring up his godson, but he didn't regret it, as Malfoy had opened his eyes and was looking at him expectantly.

"How is he?" Malfoy asked. Harry smiled.

"He's doing good,"

"Well."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"He's doing well, not good."

One of Harry's eyebrows went up. "Er, okay. He's doing well, then. Last Sunday he nabbed my wand and starting throwing hexes and curses all over the place. Completely destroyed my sitting room, and he almost caught me with a curse or two a few times."

Malfoy laughed, and Harry laughed along with him. He wondered if this could have been what his Hogwarts life could have been like, had he accepted Malfoy's friendship all those years ago. Could he have spent his days laughing with Malfoy, talking about everything and nothing as he tended to do with his other friends?

He shrugged off his reflective thoughts and focused on what Malfoy was saying, something about how Teddy showed great promise when it came to his magical abilities. He agreed, and as they talked, neither of them noticed the hours slipping away.


	6. Chapter 6

The next few days seemed to fly by. Harry and the other Aurors spent several hours each day out in the forests, searching for any trace of the poachers to no avail. Draco was still in the infirmary, and Harry visited him almost every night.

On Friday, Harry decided that he wasn't going to be home in time to spend Sunday with his godson, like he did every week, so he borrowed a quill and piece of parchment from Vladimir and penned a quick letter explaining the situation in terms that a child as young as Teddy could understand.

Right before he sealed it, he added a postscript saying that Draco was fine and helping with the case, just so that Andromeda wouldn't spend any more time worrying. When he finished, he headed up to the owlery. There were only ten owls at the reserve, as most people preferred to send Firecalls instead of letters because of the distance, and all of the owls were sleeping when he entered the tower.

A few of them blearily opened their eyes when he entered, but none of them made any move to allow him to tie his letter to their legs. He huffed in annoyance, but he couldn't really blame them. Some of these owls have probably never carried a letter in their entire lives.

He decided to go and complain to Draco, who was always willing to listen to anything negative about anything. Apparating straight into the infirmary, he announced his presence with a loud groan. Draco didn't even look up from the book he was reading.

"What is is this time, Potter?" he asked in a resigned voice. The Auror threw himself across the foot of the blonde's bed and wordlessly held up the letter. Draco glanced at it and smirked. "None of the owls here are going to help you. You can borrow Jellybean if you want."

"Why would I want a jelly bean?" Harry asked, and Draco snorted.

"Not a jelly bean," he said. "Jellybean, my owl."

Harry snorted out a laugh and rolled so that he was on his stomach. "You named your owl Jellybean?"

Draco closed his book with a snap and glared at Harry. "Is there something wrong with her name?"

"No, no," Harry said quickly. "Just, why? Out of all the things you could have called her, you decided on Jellybean."

Sighing the sigh of the truly put upon, Draco pushed himself up until he was sitting cross legged in front of Harry.

"Because," he said, "when I went into Eeylops last year to find a new owl, I was eating a bag of Every Flavour Beans and then that insane owl broke out of her cage and attacked me, trying to get some."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "You bought the owl that attacked you for your sweets?"

Draco shrugged. "I felt bad for her. The witch behind the register said that nobody wanted her because of how hyper she was. Besides, I needed an excuse to buy myself sweets without being harped at by my mother about my health."

Harry laughed. "Well, then, if you don't mind, I would like to borrow your owl."

Draco smiled. "She's probably in the mess hall bothering the cooks for food." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, but Harry quickly pushed him back down. "Problem, Potter?"

"You're supposed to be resting," Harry said. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine. I feel much better." And it was true. He wasn't as thin as he had been before, though he was still as long and lean as Harry remembered him to be. The bags under his eyes had disappeared, and his hair was cut to the nape of his neck and not as stringy and greasy as it had been before. He looked good, if Harry wanted to be really honest.

"Still," Harry insisted, but Draco cut him off.

"Seriously, Harry, I'm fine." And Draco never called him Harry, not unless he was being completely serious about something. So Harry backed off, and let Draco stand. "Thank you," the blonde said, adjusting the thick black jumper he was wearing.

The two of them found Jellybean in the mess hall, as Draco said she would be, and she hooted excitedly when she caught sight of them. She abandoned the cook she was bothering and flew over to them, landing on Draco's shoulder and nibbling at his hair.

"I missed you, too," Draco said, stroking down her beak with one finger. Harry tried not to gape; he didn't think he'd ever heard Draco talk with so much genuine affection in his voice. "Are you up for a trip back home? Potter has a letter he needs to send."

Jellybean hooted, so Harry carefully attached the letter to her leg and watched as she pushed her face into Draco's cheek once before taking off and heading for the open window.

"So, what now?" Draco asked.

"Now," Harry replied, "I meet up with the other Aurors and try to figure out a solution to the poaching problem."

Draco pouted. "What am I supposed to do? I don't want to go back to the infirmary."

"What about your book?" Harry asked, and Draco waved a dismissive hand.

"I've already read it before."

"There's a library," Harry suggested. Draco brightened.

"Library? Where? Are there any books on potions? I need to research the Five Laws of the Properties of Sleeping Draughts, and quite possibly Felix Felicis. I'm going to have my seventh years try to make some."

Dear lord, he was just as bad as Hermione. Harry warily gave him directions to the library, and he waited until the blonde Apparated away (He didn't even say goodbye. Rude.) before doing the same. He ended up in Vlad's office. Everyone else was already there.

"Hello, Auror Potter," Vladimir said. Harry smiled in response and leaned against the wall next to Charlie. "Well, now that everyone is here, we should get started."

"Have any of you had any bright ideas since the last time you went out and searched the reserve, because I don't think we're going to be lucky enough to just stumble upon the new base of operations," Charlie said. The Aurors all shook their heads.

"The only people who know where the base is are the witches and wizards involved in the poaching and the dragons they poach," Ron said.

"Yeah," Iliacus muttered. The others could see the exact moment he thought of something; his eyes widened and he froze completely.

"What is it?" Parkinson asked her partner.

"Only the poachers and the poached dragons know where the base is," Iliacus said. "And who do we know that can become one of those two things?"

"No way." Harry binked in surprise when every pair of eyes landed on him. Had he spoken out loud? Well, there was nothing he could do about it now except roll with it. "We are not sending D- Malfoy undercover."

"Harry's right," Ron said, and Harry sagged with relief. "We can't trust him. For all we know, he'll sell us out for a share of whatever the poachers are making. Right, Harry?"

Oh, dear. "Of course," Harry lied, glad that no one had recognised his surge of protectiveness for what it was. "He's not trustworthy at all. It's a bad idea."

Parkinson visibly bristled at this, and even Charlie narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"Draco would never," the witch said angrily. "He wants the poachers caught just as bad as we do."

"Even if that were true," Harry said, "would he even be up for the danger? I mean, he's not exactly known for his courage." Okay, that was maybe taking it a little bit too far, but as they say, go big or go home.

"He's not some wilting violet," Charlie said. "He's more than capable of taking care of himself, Harry."

"So, it's settled then," Vladimir said. "We will send Mr Malfoy undercover."

"We can't rely just on Malfoy," Ron protested.

"I'll go with him." Once more, everyone was staring at him, and once more, Harry decided that he needed to work on his brain to mouth filter. "If we have Polyjuice, I can disguise myself and go as one of the spectators. I can figure out who's in charge of this whole thing, and keep an eye on Malfoy."

Ron beamed at him. "Brilliant. Do we have any Polyjuice Potion?"

"We always have a stash," Charlie said, though he was purposefully Not Looking at Harry. Parkinson obviously didn't get the memo, as she was trying to burn a hole into his head with just her eyes. "Who's hair are you going to use?"

"He can use mine," Iliacus said. "I'm probably the least recognizable person in this room."

"Perfect," Vladimir said happily. "Someone should inform Mr Malfoy and the Head Auror of our plans."

"I'll Firecall Hemlock," Ron said. Parkinson gave one haughty sniff before Apparating away, and Harry and Iliacus were the only two who left out the door. They parted ways in the lobby, with the shorter man heading towards his room and Harry for the library to tell Draco about their plan.

He found the blonde sitting at the small table, staring intently at a book. He startled when Harry cleared his throat, though his eyes narrowed when they landed on the Auror.

"Can I help you, Potter?" he asked icily. The small smile on Harry's face dropped.

"I… just came to tell you that we came up with a plan," he said tentatively, unsure of what had happened to put Draco in such a foul mood.

"Brilliant," the blonde snarled. "I'll get the details from Pansy. Is there anything else you need?"

Harry, as an Auror, was required to be excellent at reading people. And he was. And he could tell that the slight tremble in Draco's voice and the way his lips were pursed wasn't from anger, but from hurt. But why was he hurt?

"No," Harry said in response to Draco's question. He furrowed his brow but didn't say anything when Draco turned his back on the Auror and flipped the page of his book. He left the library and headed back to the lobby to ask Eve where the Polyjuice was kept. Much as Draco's mood swing confused him, he was an Auror first and foremost, and the mission always came first.

… oO()Oo …

They put the plan in action the very next day. Everything was ready; they had Firecalled Hemlock and updated him (he had decided to ignore the problem of Draco being unregistered, and they told him that Parkinson and Iliacus had only come to the reserve that day, to save them from being punished for lying to their boss), a Dark Magic trap had been located, and Harry had two large flasks full of Polyjuice Potion stored in a pocket in his cloak.

The only thing left for the Auror to do was find Draco and bring him to where the others were waiting in the lobby, but that proved to be much harder than Harry thought. Ever since the previous day, Draco had been avoiding Harry. They hadn't even seen each other since the conversation (if it could be called that) in the library.

It was obvious that Draco was upset with Harry, but the raven-haired man didn't know why. As he travelled all around the HQ looking for the blonde, he tried to recall every moment leading up to what had happened yesterday in the library. Nothing stood out to him. Everything between them had been fine, and then Draco had just… changed.

Harry sighed and rubbed his gloved hands together to try and warm them. He was currently trudging through the snow towards the only place he hadn't checked for Draco: the owlery. The building itself was very small in width, but one of the tallest in the whole reserve. Inside, it was simply a staircase winding its way up the tower, with large alcoves in the walls for the owls to make nests in.

When Harry entered the blessedly warm building, he could tell immediately that someone else was in there. The usually silent ten owls owned collectively by the reserve were all crooning softly from the top of the owlery, and he could hear the soft murmur of a human voice.

As silently as he could - which was pretty damn silent - he crept up the stairs, and as he got closer and closer to the top, he began to be able to make out the voice. It was Draco, and it sounded like he was reading.

"'The Lion was pacing to and fro,'" said Draco, "'about that empty land and singing his new song. It was softer and more lilting than the song by which he had called up the stars and the sun; a gentle, rippling music. And as he walked and sang the valley grew green with grass.'"

Harry reached the tenth to last stair and paused. He could see Draco above him, sitting on the very top step with a book in his hand, which he was reading aloud from. One owl sat on his shoulder, and the other nine owls were scattered around him, listening to his voice and making soft noises whenever he paused to take a breath, as if urging him on.

Harry sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest, and then he closed his eyes and listened.

"'It spread out from the Lion like a pool. It ran up the sides of the little hill like a wave. In a few minutes it was creeping up the lower slopes of the distant mountains, making that young world every moment softer.'"

Harry knew what book Draco was reading. It had been one of his favorites when he was young, before he had found about his wizarding ancestry and been free of the Dursleys, at least during the school year. Back in primary school he used to hide out in the library during lunch, and The Chronicles of Narnia had been a temporary break from his his shitty life.

Draco stopped reading and Harry opened his eyes. He was about to protest - Draco had a very nice reading voice - but the owls beat him to it, hooting indignantly. Draco laughed.

"I know, I'm sorry," he said. "I'd love to stay here and read to you all, but I'm afraid I have something very important to do. I probably won't be back for a few days at least, so you'll have to wait for the next part of the story."

The owls hooted again, louder this time, and Draco sighed.

"I know. I don't want me to go, either," he said. "But I have to. No, don't give me that face. If, when I was imprisoned, someone else had the ability to set me free, wouldn't you want them to?" There was some shuffling, and then a sheepish sounding croon. "Why do I deserve to be free when the other dragons aren't?"

Harry decided that it was time to make himself known. He stood up and clambered up the last few steps. Draco looked up at him in surprise when he caught sight of him, and then his eyes narrowed.

"Yes?" he asked icily.

"I just came to get you," Harry said, Draco's transition from kind-reader-of-books-to-owls to angry-user-of-the-Malfoy-death-glare making him a little disoriented. "It's time to go."

Draco didn't say anything else as he stood, but he did stroke the owl on his shoulder affectionately on its small cream coloured beak. It hopped from his shoulder to the top stair, and Draco stood and brushed roughly past Harry. He looked beseechingly at the owl, but the Barn Owl had turned its back as soon as Draco left, as if sensing the animosity the blonde held for the Auror.

Harry sighed and followed the blonde out of the owlery.

… oO()Oo …

The trap was at least three hours away from the HQ as the broom flew with the wind, and so Harry had layered the Warming Charms on thick. His Auror robes had been traded in for a pair of thick trousers and multiple shirts and jumpers that blended in with the taiga, so that he could fly close to the treetops and blend in.

He needn't have bothered. As soon as they had exited the owlery, Draco had changed into his Animagus form. Harry had seen Animagi transform before, namely McGonagall and Sirius, but neither of them could compare to Draco's transformation.

It lasted two second at most, and Harry thought he saw skin turning into scales, pupils elongating and fingers growing dark and pointy, and then stood in front of Harry the most beautiful dragon he had ever seen.

Draco looked exactly the same as last time Harry had seen his dragon form, and also completely different. He wasn't as thin and his scales, which had previously been a dull white covered in blood and dirt, were now almost pearlescent. He gave himself a shake, much like a dog shaking off water, and then he trotted to where the other three Aurors and two dragonologists waited by two brooms.

"It might make it hard for you to ride a broom if you weigh three tons," Ron said, looking at Draco dubiously. Draco gave him a withering look and snapped open his now completely healed wings. Ron looked sheepish. "Right. Wings."

"How will Harry keep up?" Charlie asked. In response, Draco crouched down and looked at Harry expectantly.

"You want me to ride you?" Harry asked. Ron tittered. Draco shot a tiny tongue of red flame at the ground at Ron's feet, and the redhead yelped and jumped back. The dragon turned back to Harry and narrowed his eyes, as if to say, Well?

Frowning - because Draco was mad at him. Why would he let Harry ride him if he was mad? - Harry cautiously grabbed onto the joint of Draco's wing and pulled himself up. When he was seated, he looked down to Charlie.

"Where is the trap?" he asked.

"Just keep heading east," the redhead said. "You should come across a great field of ice not to far from here. The trap is there."

"Got it." Harry looked down at Draco's neck. What was he supposed to hold on to? He didn't have as much time to figure it out as he would have liked, however, because Draco spread his wings, crouched, and then shot into the air.

Harry yelped and grabbed wildly at the dragon's neck, and eventually wrapped his arms around it. Draco made a rumbling noise, which Harry thought was laughter, and flapped his great wings again. Harry felt like his legs would be pushed clean off his back every time the wings beat, and he was reminded of that time in Third Year when he had ridden Buckbeak.

The view was even more amazing than when he had ridden the hippogriff. Draco flew higher than Buckbeak ever dared to go, and he glided lazily through the air, giving a flap of his wings every few seconds. Harry felt his breath catch when he looked around.

They were among the clouds, and the sun shining off of them gave everything a golden glow. The trees below them, which had already been small when on ground level, now looked like a child's toys. Harry took a moment to just enjoy the feeling of flying again, and then he got back to business.

When he was sure that he wouldn't fall off, Harry pulled out his wand.

"Point Me," he said, and the thin wooden rod spun in his hand until it stopped, pointing to their right. "Draco, you're going west."

The dragon veered right until he was heading east, and then they didn't speak for another hour or so. It was about the time when Harry was sure his arse was frozen to Draco's scales that they heard it. A roar, much louder and deeper than Draco's. Said dragon stopped and hovered in midair, bobbing up and down with the movement of his wings.

He cocked his head and listened, and then another roar sounded and Draco dropped. His wings folded to his sides and he fell into a steep dive, and all Harry could do was hold on for dear life and try not to die. The treeline below them was getting closer and closer and Harry resisted the urge to shut his eyes.

Right before they crashed into the ground, Draco's wings snapped open and filled with air, and then he was flying right above the trees, so close that Harry could have reached out and touched the branches.

"Can you not do that again?" Harry gasped, coughing a little as his lungs filled with air. Draco rumbled a laugh again, and Harry thought that it sounded distinctly evil.

They travelled along the treeline for another half hour, and then Draco started to rise, until he was once more among the clouds. Harry shivered from the cold and layered Warming Charm after Warming Charm on him and Draco, as per Charlie's instructions.

"Dragons are cold-blooded," the redhead had said. "Draco can't produce his own heat, and at the height he'll be flying at, if you don't keep him warm, he'll probably not be able to fly very well."

And though Harry loved flying (on broomsticks, mind you), he had no wish to drop from the sky at such a height.

It took them a total of two hours to get to the ice field that Charlie had pointed out to them, and Harry was sure that it would have been much longer on brooms.

"That's it!" he called, shouting to be heard over the wind. Draco started heading lower in response, circling around the ice field, trying to find a suitable place to land. He finally located a tiny clearing about ten yards from the ice field, much too small for a dragon to fit into. "I don't think you'll fit in there."

Draco didn't respond, just hovered above the clearing. He folded his wings and began to dive again, and Harry actually did clench his eyes shut this time. Right as they hit the tree line, there was the sensation of the ground disappearing out from under him, and then Harry landed face first in the snow. He looked up, spluttering, just in time to see a human Draco land neatly in a crouch.

The blonde stood and smiled pleasantly at Harry.

"Are you just going to lie there all day?" he asked. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"You did that on purpose," he accused. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Every movement I make is on purpose," he shot back. He abruptly turned and started walking towards the ice field, and Harry followed behind, sighing and wondering what had happened to turn their (admittedly rather new) friendship into… this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am aware that I gave no information at all on how Harry and Draco's friendship developed, but don't worry. I'm thinking about starting a series of one-shots detailing all of their conversations and the like during the time when Draco was bedridden and Harry and the Aurors were trying to find the poachers' base.
> 
> Don't get your hopes up, though, because if my muse doesn't give birth to any ideas, then you'll just have to use your imaginations and decide on your own how they became friends.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry was crouched behind a tree, hidden underneath a Notice-Me-Not Charm, just outside of the ice field. He watched as Draco paced around and around in a circle, occasionally spreading his wings and trying to fly away, only to run into an invisible barrier. Each time, he jolted and let out a pained roar, and Harry assumed that the perimeter of the spell was designed to shock anything that ran into it from the inside.

The Auror didn't know if Draco was only acting, or if the animal part of his brain had taken over in his distress. The Animagus was acting exactly how Harry imagined a real dragon would act if trapped in such a way. Either way, Harry flinched every time Draco hit the barrier and yelped. As miffed as he was at Draco for his behaviour the past two days, he didn't like hearing his friend in pain.

For hours this went on. The sun had already set by the time there was any movement from a source other than Draco, and the cold was the only thing preventing Harry from falling asleep. Draco had no such problem; in fact, his was the opposite.

Exposed to the cold for as long as he had been, the Animagus' movements had grown slow and sluggish. Eventually, he stopped trying to escape, and instead curled up on the ice. He couldn't breathe fire without melting the ice, and Harry couldn't perform Warming Charms from such a great distance, so Draco had to make do as best as he could.

It was twilight when they first arrived. The sun had long since fallen below the horizon but its light still cast a golden glow over everything, and Draco's white scales were lit up like a beacon. At first it was just one. A single wizard walked cautiously out onto the ice, and Harry snapped to attention.

He watched intently as the man approached Draco. The dragon didn't move until the man was right next to him, and then, faster than anyone could react, he reached out with his muzzle and bit into the wizard. Harry gasped as Draco gave him a little shake, then spit him out and growled.

Almost instantly what Harry guessed to be about two dozen red lights burst forth from the trees, and Draco went down hard. The witches and wizards who had cast the Stunners rushed out and made sure that Draco was unconscious before magically lifting him. The man whom Draco had bit was left to bleed out on the ice, and Harry was disgusted.

He watched as the poachers all mounted brooms and took to the air, and as they passed overhead he cast a Tracing Charm on Draco's still form. When he was sure they were gone, he slipped out of his hiding spot and rushed over to where the poachers had been hidden in the woods.

Luckily, the dead poacher's broom was still there, and Harry mounted it and kicked off. He stayed low to the treetops, and followed the blob that was Draco and the poachers from a distance. Not even fifteen minutes later, they landed at the foot of a large cliff. They dismounted and Harry frowned when they started heading towards the base of the cliff.

They kept walking and walking and walking and… what the fuck? They had just disappeared into the cliff, as if it wasn't there at all. Harry's eyes narrowed in understanding. A Concealment Charm, like the one that hid the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ from the view of Muggles.

Harry pulled out his wand. "Expecto Patronum," he whispered, and a great silver stag burst forth from his wand tip and cantered off into the forest to deliver his message. Not ten minutes later, a small silver Jack Russell Terrier came bounding up to him. It sat at his legs and opened its mouth, and it was Ron's voice that came out.

"Harry," it said. "We got your message. Hemlock sent reinforcements, but it's only four other Aurors. It'll take us a few hours to get there, so try not to kill yourself before we do."

The Patronus disappeared, and Harry sighed. Only eight Aurors total, to take care of at least a dozen poachers. The odds weren't in their favour, but when were they ever?

There was a sudden pop! to his left, and Harry tilted his head in confusion when a very well-dressed wizard strode confidently out of the trees. He walked straight through the barrier and disappeared. Another pop! and a witch this time emerged from the forest. And then another witch, and two wizards.

What is going on? Harry thought. Frowning dubiously, he reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the vials of Polyjuice. He looked at the dark blue liquid inside and wrinkled his nose as he forced down a gulp. It didn't taste as bad as essence of Goyle had, but he still shuddered when it slid down his throat.

He clenched his jaw through the not-quite-painful transformation, and then he was looking around through the heavily-lidded eyes of Iliacus. His hand reached up to brush his hair, and he was surprised to find that on his neck was soft fuzz instead of hair. He was much thinner, and shorter, than he was used to, and his clothes were drowning him. A quick Shrinking Charm had the clothes fitting properly, and then a glamour hid the bright scarlet colour of his Auror robes underneath the guise of well-tailored black robes.

When he was sure that he was ready, he emerged from the trees, posture straight and gait confident. He paused, pretending to adjust his robes, and waited until another wizard had emerged from the trees to follow him. He walked through the barrier, and his eyes flicked around, taking in everything at once.

The cavern was large, larger even than the ring that had been in the poachers' previous base. There were bleachers hugging the perimeter of the walls, and every so often a faint rippling could be seen going around the bleachers, making Harry think that a Shield Charm had been used to protect them.

There were only a few witches and wizards milling about the cavern, chatting and laughing as if at a party, and not an illegal dragon fight. Harry made his way through them, trying to find the one who looked to be in charge. Every so often a few more people would enter, and soon the cavern was filled with the sounds of talking and laughing.

"Attention," a loud male voice called, and everyone instantly hushed. "The entertainment will begin in an hour's time. The fights will start in one hour, and anyone not in their seats by then will be in danger of being incinerated or eaten."

The noise picked up again as soon as the announcement had finished, and Harry found himself sticking out like a sore thumb with no one to talk to. He decided to at least try to mingle, to see if he could find any information on who was in charge.

He walked up to a solitary witch who was leaning against the stone wall and cleared his throat. She looked down at him (Iliacus was short) and smiled politely.

"Hello," she said in a slight accent that was definitely not British, Irish, or Scottish, or any other accent that Harry could place. "Is this your first fight? I don't think I've ever seen you around before."

"Er, yes," Harry said. "I'm rather new here. A friend actually recommended I come, but I can't seem to find him anywhere."

"Ah, that is understandable." Harry gave her a confused look, and she chuckled. "You are very new to all of this, aren't you? This kind of business attracts a certain… type of people. The type of people who sometimes have to disappear for a bit to keep themselves off the Ministry's radar."

Harry made an 'Oh' motion with his mouth and the witch smirked.

"Do you know who runs this thing?" Harry asked. The witch raised an eyebrow.

"No one does," she said. "He changes his appearance every time there is a fight. But we all know that he calls himself Draco Dominus."

"The Dragon Lord?" Harry asked skeptically. "How pretentious."

The witch laughed. "Exactly what I thought, but do not let anyone else hear you say that. The last person who insulted him ended up falling into the pit in the middle of a fight."

She gave him a meaningful look and Harry's eyes widened.

"My name is Symi," she said.

"Edward," Harry introduced himself.

"I can take you to Dominus. He is always mingling somewhere before a fight starts."

Symi turned and led Harry through the ever-growing mass of people. They stopped near the entrance, where two huge wizards who reminded him of Crabbe and Goyle stood with their wands out, glaring intimidatingly around the room.

Symi headed for the smaller of the two, a thickset brunette with small black eyes and a too-large nose. He smiled when he saw her.

"Symi," he rumbled. "I was wondering when you would find me."

"Hello, Dom," she said. "This is Edward. It is his first fight."

Dominus' attention shifted to Harry, who tried not to squirm under his scrutiny.

"Is it?" the man said softly. Then he smiled. "Well, then, I hope you enjoy what you see. A lot of time and effort goes into these things, you know."

"Oh, I'm sure," Harry replied. "It looks very well-put together, and I haven't even seen the actual fight yet!"

Dominus puffed his chest out proudly. "Thank you, Mr Edward. I appreciate the compliments, as I do not get many."

He shot a glare at Symi, who laughed.

"Oh, come now, you aren't still mad about that, are you?" she asked teasingly. Dominus just sniffed.

"She is always so mean to me," he told Harry, who grinned despite himself. "You seem like a very nice young man, and you must be at least a little interesting to have caught Symi's attention. How would you like to sit with me during the fights? My box is the best seat in the house."

Perfect. "I would love that."

… oO()Oo …

Dominus' box ended up being hidden in a large alcove above the bleachers. Harry could see the entire cavern from so high up, and he wa pretty sure that no one could see him. The seats were covered in velvet and very comfortable, and a witch was there to serve them drinks and food.

Harry had waited until Dominus and Symi had tasted the wine before taking a sip of his own, and Dominus had laughed and called him a paranoid bastard. He couldn't drink on the job, so he merely pretended to drink, Vanishing the wine nonverbally every time he went to take a sip; neither of them caught on.

For the whole rest of the hour he stayed there, listening to their conversations and occasionally making a comment or asking a question. He learned that Symi and Dominus were sort of an item, that although they had been together (in the loosest sense of the term) for almost a year, she had never seen his true face - that she knew of - and still didn't know his name.

Harry learned that Dominus had started out stealing and then selling dragon eggs, but then decided to make a bigger profit selling entertainment, and that's why he had started kidnapping dragons and charging people to watch them fight.

"I have fourteen of the strongest dragons on the reserve," the man boasted after finishing his third glass of wine. Symi, who was still nursing her second, smirked at how his eyes were slightly glassy. "They're all beautiful and majestic and vicious, but there is one that I adore most of all."

"Which one?" Harry asked.

"He is unlike any dragon I have ever seen before. He isn't as strong as most of the other dragons; no, this one is small and lithe and quick. His scales are the most beautiful white colour I have ever seen in my life. I've only ever seen him fight a few times, but he is going to be tonight's main attraction. I'm sure you will enjoy the show he puts on."

Harry's blood was boiling, and only the announcer's voice ringing through the stadium, announcing that the fights were about to start, kept him from doing something stupid.

"Attention ladies and gentleman; the show is about to begin. You have less than five minutes to get to your seats before the first dragons are let out. Again, you have five minutes to get to your seats."

There was a mad scramble as people rushed to find an empty spot on the bleachers, and then the lights in the cavern dimmed and so did the noise level. The first dragon was a Hungarian Horntail. A large hole opened up in the side of the stone ring, and the beast shot out like a rocket, launching itself immediately at the spectators. When it hit the shield not ten feet above their heads, they all screamed and laughed.

It turned its head and growled when the second dragon was let in, a huge Ukrainian Ironbelly. The two dragons snarled at each other, and the crowd roared.

Harry thought he was going to be sick.

… oO()Oo …

It had only been an hour, and Harry was already wishing that he could Stupefy everyone in the cavern and free all of the dragons. The fights were vicious. The first two dragons had been the worst fighters, and then the winner of each fight was faced off against the next best. There had been a total of four fights so far, each one lasting about fifteen minutes give or take, and the fifth one was about half over.

The Peruvian Vipertooth was clobbering the Antipodean Opaleye. The white dragon - which Harry thought looked far too much like Draco - had a huge gash running down its side, and blood was splattered all over the floor. The Vipertooth gave it one more whack across the head and the Opaleye went down and didn't move.

The crowd went wild, screaming and cheering. Dominus cheered, too, and even Symi was clapping. They thankfully mistook Harry's wide-eyed look of disgust for one of awe.

"It's fantastic, yeah?" Dominus asked, grinning maniacally. "Ten down, one more dragon to go!"

"I thought you said you have fourteen," Harry said.

"Three of them aren't able to perform tonight," Dominus said, waving a dismissive hand. "Besides, I don't think I could wait through another three fights to see my favourite's performance. Ah, there he is now!"

Harry looked and, sure enough, the Opaleye was being magically lifted out of the ring, and Draco entered. The Vipertooth lunged at him immediately, but the Animagus simply sidestepped.

"He is much smarter than the other dragons," Dom said. "He makes his fights interesting."

Harry wasn't listening, too busy watching as the Vipertooth puffed itself up intimidatingly and spread its wings, trying to appear bigger than it was. Draco didn't move from his crouch, but his crest rose and he snarled. The Vipertooth attacked again, and Draco spun around, using the Vipertooth's own momentum to slam it head first into a wall.

The crowd screamed its approval, and Harry sighed in relief. Draco backed off, still growling, and watched the Vipertooth warily. The copper-coloured dragon shook its head dazedly and snarled at Draco, who bared his teeth in response.

The Vipertooth charged again, flaring its wings to distract Draco. It worked, and it managed to swipe its claws across the white dragon's flank. Draco snarled in pain and Harry flinched when the stone floor was splattered with red.

"Oh, I know that look," Dominus said suddenly. "He always gets this look in his eye when he first gets injured during a fight. It means that he's going to stop holding back. He always tries to win without shedding blood, strangely, but once it's his blood that's spilled, his survival instincts kick in."

Harry hadn't taken his eyes off of the fights, but he was listening, and he felt a pang of sadness when he thought of Draco holding himself back to try and protect the dragons he was being forced to fight.

Draco grew vicious after that first gash opened up on his side. He went on the offensive, and didn't give the Vipertooth an opportunity to do any serious damage. Even he couldn't block every hit, though, and Harry flinched every time one of the Vipertooth's bites or kicks his their target.

"Here comes his finishing blow," Dom murmured, as Draco flipped onto his back and let the Vipertooth pin him down. Both of his hands came up and pushed at the bigger dragon's snout, preventing him from biting. In a fit of surprising strength, he surged upwards and clamped his jaws around the Vipertooth's throat.

Harry's heart stopped. Please don't kill it, he thought desperately. Draco didn't let go, and the Vipertooth's struggles grew weaker and weaker, until it finally stopped moving and went limp in Draco's hold.

He released the Vipertooth and sniffed around its mouth.

"What's he doing?" Harry mumbled to himself, but Dom heard it anyway.

"Checking to make sure that the Vipertooth's still breathing," he said. "He doesn't kill his opponents; not on purpose, anyway."

Good, Harry thought. Draco sat on his haunches and glared around at the crowd, which was going crazy. His crest raised as the cheering went on, and he eventually opened his mouth and shot a humongous plume of blue flame at the closest section of people. Of course, the shield held and the fire dissipated, but the crowd, not realizing the true reason behind Draco's anger, screamed louder in excitement.

The hole in the wall opened and the Vipertooth was lifted through it, and then Draco was alone in the ring.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer boomed, "the winner of tonight's fight!"

The crowd cheered and Draco thrashed his tail angrily. A few of the spectators stood up and Harry panicked. People were already leaving? But the other Aurors weren't here yet! He jolted out of his chair and mumbled something about needing to piss when Dominus and Symi gave him curious looks.

He hurried over to the exit, where the beefy guard was still standing, glaring out at everything. He gave a suspicious look to Harry, but allowed him to walk through the barrier and into the cold Russian air.

He sent out a Patronus, this one with a more desperate message. After it disappeared into the woods, Harry started pacing anxiously, scanning the surrounding treeline every few seconds. Two long moments passed, and then there was a quiet whoosh! noise, and seven scarlet-robed Aurors popped into existence, all of them clutching what appeared to be a branch.

"What took you so long?" Harry hissed, stalking over to them. "People are going to start leaving any second!"

"Calm down, Harry," Ron said. "We had to locate the coordinates you sent on a map and then set up a Portkey. Why didn't we just do this earlier?"

"Who cares?" Parkinson hissed. "Let's just get in there and arrest the bastards."

The eight Aurors all crept up to where the barrier was hidden, wands drawn. Iliacus was standing next to Harry, and he gave him a quick once over.

"When was the last time you drank the Polyjuice Potion?" he asked.

"About twenty minutes ago," Harry answered. "Why?"

"It's going to be weird working alongside someone who looks and sounds exactly like me for another forty minutes."

"Cram it, Iliacus," one of the other Aurors said, a witch named Riley, if Harry wasn't mistaken. "We're being serious right now."

"I'm always serious," Iliacus replied in a monotone, but he obediently shut up after that. On Harry's signal they rushed through the barrier and Harry Stunned the beefy guard, who didn't even have time to shout.

Harry led the way to the stairs leading up to the bleachers, and at his nod, they stormed up the stairs, firing Stunners at everyone. The crowd began to panic, but the Aurors were prepared and witches and wizards were dropping like flies. When he was sure that the other Aurors could handle themselves, he snuck off to find the self proclaimed Draco Dominus.


	8. Chapter 8

He met Dominus and Symi as they were descending from their box. Dom took one look at the wand in his hand and the screaming crowd, and then his eyes narrowed and he pulled out his own wand.

"I should have known that you weren't who you said you were, Edward," he said. "I doubt that is even your name."

Harry snorted. "Please. I'm not the one who calls himself the Dragon Lord."

Dominus started forward, dragging Symi along behind him, and Harry backed away cautiously, wand aimed in front of him protectively.

"I am going to go now," Dom said. "And I'm taking Symi with me. You won't try to stop us if you wish to make it out of here alive."

Harry barked out a short laugh and released the glamour on his clothes, revealing his Auror robes. Symi gasped and Dom's eyes widened, and then the wizard shot a curse at Harry. The Auror ducked and retaliated with a Stunner. The blast of red light hit Symi in the arm, and she went limp in Dom's hold.

He instinctively pulled her closer with both hands, leaving himself defenseless to Harry's attack. And since he was still bristling over the fact that Dom knew Draco was a human and made him fight anyway, he decided to get a little revenge.

He threw a Bleeding Boil Curse, which Dom dodged. The man let Symi fall to the ground and stood over her protectively, wand pointed at Harry. The two of them stood glaring at each other for a moment, and then they both shouted at the same time.

Spells started flying everywhere, and a few people who ran by them in an attempt to escape the other Aurors were hit. Harry was almost too busy dodging spells to cast them, but so was Dominus.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried, falling back into his old habit of using the Disarming Spell as his main line of defense. Just like every other time he's used it, it worked. Dom's wand flew out of his hand and into Harry's, and the Auror hit him with Full Body-Bind Curse.

Dominus stiffened and fell backward over Symi, and Harry left him there, not bothering to Stun him. He ran over to the main area of the cavern, and found that there were only a few stragglers left over. He helped to Stun them, and then met with the other Aurors by the door.

Most of them were panting, and Pansy had a nasty gash on her arm, but other than that they were fine.

"Is that everyone?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron said. "I think so."

"What do we do with them?" Iliacus asked, nudging at someone's arm with his toe. "I mean, how are we supposed to get them all back to London?"

"Who cares?" Pansy growled. "As long as we get to throw them in Azkaban, I'd be fine with shipping them there in boxes."

"Hold on," said Harry. "What about the dragons?"

"I let them go," one of the Aurors said. "A few of them snapped at each other, but mostly they just went their separate ways."

"DId you happen to see a small white dragon?" Harry asked. Pansy glared at him.

"I let Draco go," Pansy said. "He's probably on his way back to HQ."

And without letting him say anything, she turned and began rounding up the unconscious bodies littering the floor, leaving Harry to wonder what, exactly, he had done to incur the wrath of a dragon and his best friend.

… oO()Oo …

Harry sighed silently and turned the page in the book he wasn't really reading, and took a sip of the beer he wasn't really drinking. Grimmauld Place, which had always seemed a little large and empty for just one person and a House Elf, now seemed even more so now that he was used to being around people all the time.

It had been about a week since he had returned from Russia, and he still couldn't figure out why Draco was mad at him. Pansy had ignored him ever since the case had been closed, even though she sometimes stopped by their office to ask Ron's advice on something.

He had spent the last week doing paperwork, interrogating the witches and wizards that were rounded up at the dragon fights, and lying in bed without being able to sleep very well. Kreacher had noticed his foul mood, and usually avoided him when he wasn't making Harry's favourite foods in an attempt to lift his spirits. It worked slightly.

"Is there anything that Master Harry be needing?" Kreacher asked from the doorway to Harry's huge bedroom.

"No, thanks, Kreacher," Harry said. "I'll be fine for the rest of the night."

Kreacher bowed and backed out of the room, and Harry was left to his thoughts. And that was when the owl slammed into the window.

Harry jumped at the loud bang, and most of his beer sloshed onto his t-shirt. He cursed and cleaned it up with a muttered spell, and then he went to his window. The owl hopped onto the windowsill, looking disgruntled and more than a little embarrassed. It held out its leg and Harry untied the small scroll attached to it.

Dear Mr Potter,

As I'm sure you are aware, my Potions Professor recently came back to work after being kidnapped and forced to fight dragons. Dreadful business, that. As I'm sure you are not aware, my Potions Professor has been moping around my school all week, snapping at anything with a pulse, and some things without one.

He decided to spend this weekend at his own home, and though I understand that he needs to be alone, I don't think it wise for him to be left by himself with no one for company but an owl and a cat.

He resides at the 7-8 Manson Place Apartments in South Kensington when he isn't at Hogwarts. His apartment shouldn't be hard to find, as he is the only non-Muggle living there.

In case my meaning is not clear, Mr Potter, let me clarify. Mr Malfoy has been deeply hurt by you, and you are going to visit him this instant (No, I don't care what time it is) and fix the mess you made. I don't like seeing my staff upset, Mr Potter. Especially not by someone who I thought was quite a bit smarter than that.

Sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress of Hogwarts

Harry's eyebrows shot up, and he reread the letter once more to make sure that he was understanding correctly. And then another time. The owl hooted impatiently.

"Oh, I'm not sending a reply," Harry told it. "You can go back to Hogwarts."

The bird fluffed up its feathers importantly and gave Harry a single blink, and then it spread its wings and flew off. Harry absentmindedly closed the window and headed to his wardrobe.

"Kreacher!" he called as he pulled out a pair of pants and a thick jumper. The House Elf crack!ed into existence at the foot of Harry's bed.

"Yes, Master Harry?"

"I'm going out. I don't know when I'm coming back, so don't wait up."

Kreacher blinked. "Master Harry, it is being very late. It is almost one o'clock in the morning."

"Yes, thank you, Kreacher," Harry snapped, trying - and failing - to put on a jacket one-armed. "That doesn't change the fact that I'm going out. Now, how do I look?"

"Dashing," Kreacher grumbled, and then he Disapparated. Harry rolled his eyes, grabbed his wand, and followed his example. Having walked past the 7-8 Manson Place Apartments once or twice, he knew exactly where he was going, and so ended up on the very top step.

The building, which Harry always thought was a very ghastly shade of manilla, was completely dark, with not a single window lit. He cast a quick detection spell and almost immediately he could sense Draco's distinct magical signature. The apartment was at the very top of the building, and in the very back.

Harry closed his eyes and Apparated. The hallway where he ended up was dimly lit, and silent. Harry crept from door to door until he reached one that had magic practically oozing out of the cracks. He lifted his hand and knocked softly, though still loud enough to be heard.

A minute passed, and no one came to the door, so Harry knocked again. From inside came the sound of someone shuffling, and then a dull thud and a muttered curse, and the door was flung open.

There stood Draco, looking immensely peeved. His expression changed to one of shock when he saw Harry, but the Auror was too busy taking in Draco's appearance. He was dressed in a pair of baggy pants and a thin cotton t-shirt, and his feet were bare. His eyes were still slightly unfocused and sleepy His usually immaculate blonde hair was incredibly messed up, sticking out in all directions, looking worse than Harry's had when he was a kid.

"Potter," Draco said, eyes wide and full with emotions. And then they narrowed and became guarded. "May I ask how, exactly, you found out where I live, and why you are here?"

"Can I come in?" Harry asked. "I promise I'll explain."

Draco studied him for a moment, but then he moved aside and let Harry enter. The apartment was much different than Harry imagined it would be. Hell, the whole thing was not what he had expected of the Malfoy. An apartment in Muggle London; and an incredibly messy apartment, at that. There were books and pillows all over the floor, and Harry even thought he could see what looked like a sock sticking out from under the couch.

Draco flopped onto an armchair and left Harry to seat himself on the couch. There was a loud hoot, and then Jellybean flew into the room and landed on Draco's shoulder. A large white cat followed closely behind her, and he settled himself in Draco's lap.

Three pairs of eyes - one steely grey, one pale yellow, one blue, and all of them very judgemental - stared at him, and Harry couldn't help but feel like he was on trial.

"Well?" Draco prompted.

"I don't really know why I'm here," Harry said, and it was true. He had just wanted to set things right with Draco, but he realized now that he had no idea how to do that. "I got a letter from McGonagall, and she told me where you lived and that I needed to come and fix my mess, because she doesn't like having mopey professors, or something-"

"Oh, of course," Draco interrupted, sneering. "Harry bloody Potter comes now, a week after coming back to London, because he was told to. It's not like he actually wants to know how I'm doing. No, he just wants to fix his mess, because that's all that Draco Malfoy will ever be! Did you bring backup, Harry? No? Well, I'm surprised you trust me enough to come alone!"

He had shot to his feet during his little rant, tossing the cat - Flummox, Draco had said his name was - onto the floor. Now he towered over Harry, rage and hurt in his eyes and Jellybean hooting angrily from his shoulder.

"Draco," Harry tried, but the blonde wasn't done.

"Thanks ever so much for checking up on me!" he snarled. "You can let McGonagall know that you did what she told you to, and that I'm fine, because unlike you, I know she actually cares about me and will want to know about the nightmares and the flashbacks and-"

Draco stopped. Both his and Harry's eyes widened when he realized what he had said, Draco's from mortification and Harry's from realization. He had finally understood why Draco had been so mad at him. Because, after all, anger is a secondary emotion, a response to hurt.

"Draco," Harry said.

"Just get out," Draco demanded, but there wasn't any heat behind the command. His shoulders sagged and he lowered his head, and his voice was defeated. It made Harry's chest hurt to see him like this.

"Draco," Harry said again, sternly, infusing all the authority he carried as an Auror into those two syllables. Draco's head snapped up. "I'm sorry." The blonde gave him a suspicious look, but didn't interrupt or move, so Harry continued. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant what I said, back at the reserve. And I didn't come because McGonagall told me to. I came because I was worried, and because you being mad at me made me upset in a way that I didn't know how to cope with. And I was mad at myself, too, because I knew that I had hurt you, but I didn't know how, or how to fix it. Of course I trust you, and of course I care about you. You're my friend, Draco. I told you that before, and I meant every word."

Draco's grey eyes had grown more and more glassy the longer Harry had spoken, and now he ducked his head and sniffed. A single tear dripped from his cheek onto the floor, and Harry cautiously reached out and placed his hands on Draco's shoulders. When the blonde didn't move away, Harry pulled him close and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder, and they stood like that for a long moment.

"Thanks," Draco eventually muttered.

"Don't thank me," Harry murmured back. "I should have done this a long time ago."

Draco pulled back and swiped one hand over his eyes. He offered Harry a small smile, and the Auror smiled back.

"So, nightmares and flashbacks?" Harry asked. Draco's smile dropped immediately and he looked away.

"It always happens after a traumatising experience," he said. "Ever since I was a child. It's how I cope. They'll stop after a few weeks at the most."

Harry pulled him over to the couch and they flopped onto it, and Draco tucked his hands between his legs and stared down at them.

"Are they bad?" Harry asked, because even though he had never liked to talk about his nightmares, Hermione was always saying that it would help; maybe Draco would get more use of that particular piece of advice than Harry did.

"Terrible," Draco said softly, still staring at his hands. Then he seemed to snap out of his melancholy, and he shrugged. "It's fine."

"Hmm." Harry didn't say anything else, not until Flummox hopped onto the couch and settled in Draco's lap. He hissed at Harry, and Draco's hand came down and he rubbed at the cat's ears; Flummox relaxed right away, and he even started purring. "You really do pet him when he's upset."

"Did you think I was lying?" Draco asked, one eyebrow raised. And then he blinked and yawned. Harry chuckled.

"You should go to sleep," he said. Draco narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the left, and Harry chuckled again. "Don't give me your stubborn face. It's late, and I woke you up."

Draco looked as if he didn't know which part of Harry's statement to address. "My stubborn face?" he finally asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah, your stubborn face. You always make that face when you're about to do something that you know you shouldn't."

Draco closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows. "Wow. I don't even know what to say to that. You catalogued my facial expressions?"

Harry felt warmth spread up his face, and Draco smirked. And then he yawned again.

"Seriously, Draco, you should go to sleep."

"Make me." Harry blinked in shock. Did he just…

"Did you just… And you always call me the five-year-old."

"You are a five-year-old," Draco assured him, smirking wickedly. "I just happen to be a very mature six-year-old."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course."

Draco chuckled and tried - and failed - to hide a yawn behind his hand.

"That's it," Harry said. He stood up quickly, startling Draco, and reached down until he could grab the blonde by his wrists. He pulled him up, dislodging Flummox from Draco's lap, and bodily lifted Draco from the ground.

"Hey!" Draco shouted indignantly. He let out a loud oomph! when Harry tossed him over his shoulder and carried him down the hallway, and then he started squirming. "I swear to Merlin, Potter, if you don't put me down this instant I will castrate you and feed your dick to Flummox!"

"You already made that threat," Harry pointed out, "back when you were still in the infirmary at the reserve. You need to come up with some new material. Now, where's the bedroom?"

The bedroom ended up being the last room in the hall. It was nice, with large windows, plush carpet, and dark cherry wood furniture. The bedspread was a deep red, and Harry's eyebrows rose.

"Gryffindor colours," he observed. "I would have thought you'd go for green."

"Shut up," Draco huffed petulantly, and Harry grinned. "Green reminds me of vomit."

Harry outright laughed at that, and then he walked over to the bed and deposited Draco onto it. The blonde simply crossed his legs and gave Harry a defiant stare that screamed What now?

"You do realize," said Draco, "that I am now going to stay up as late as I can just because you are trying to force me to sleep, don't you?"

"Well, I'll just have to fix that, then." Harry toed off his shoes and stripped himself of his jacket, and then he crawled onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, eyeing him warily.

"I," Harry told him, "am making sure that you sleep." He reached Draco and wrapped his arms around the blonde, tight enough that he couldn't escape. And then he tipped them over, until they were lying down on the bed with their heads on the pillows. WIth a quick nonverbal spell, the red duvet spread itself over them. "There. Isn't this cozy? I'm not letting you go until you fall asleep, you know."

Draco was stiff as a board in his arms. "This is highly inappropriate, I hope you know," he hissed. But he didn't make any move to escape, and eventually he relaxed, and so Harry counted it as a win. Draco was almost asleep when Harry spoke up again.

"Why do you have two familiars?" he whispered.

"Because fuck you, is why," Draco murmured thickly, and Harry laughed.

… oO()Oo …

Harry could tell that something was different the moment he woke up. The bed didn't feel like his own, the sounds and smells weren't the same, and there was a warm body pressed up against his. He blinked, and the events of the previous night came rushing back to him.

He looked around, surprised to find that it was morning. He didn't remember falling asleep. The body in his arms shuffled a bit, and Harry looked down and grinned. Draco was wrapped around Harry like an octopus, with his arms around the Auror's waist and his head on Harry's chest.

Jellybean was perched on the headboard and Flummox situated on top of the covers, and all of it was just so domestic and peaceful and quiet. Harry found that he wouldn't mind waking up like this every morning.

"Harry?" came a sleepy voice, and Harry looked back at Draco to see that the blonde was looking up at him with confusion. "Why are you in my bed?"

"I guess I fell asleep," Harry said sheepishly. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled himself out of Harry's arms. If he felt awkward at all, he didn't show it.

"Of course you did. Come on, I'm sure I've got a spare toothbrush around somewhere."

Harry followed Draco to the bathroom, and the two of them brushed their teeth side by side, making faces in the mirror and trying to get the other to laugh. They ended up in the kitchen, where Draco made them coffee and tried - and failed - to stop Jellybean from taking a sip from his mug.

And then they were sitting at the kitchen table, and Draco smiled at him, that small smile that Harry rarely got to see because Draco was often too busy throwing out fake smiles to people, and Harry really could not handle all the rightness.

And so he stood up and walked forward and leaned down, and only had a moment to take in Draco's startled and confused expression before he was kissing him. Draco froze for a moment, and Harry feared that he had made a huge mistake, and then the blonde's lips were moving against his own.

His lips were soft and smooth, and he tasted like coffee and mint, and his hands released his mug and found their way into Harry's hair, and as far as first kisses went, Harry had to say that this was his best one yet.

Draco pulled back after a moment and rested his forehead against Harry's.

"I hope you know," he said, "that you've basically ignored at least five of the Steps."

"The Steps?" Harry asked, and he could practically hear the capital letter.

"Yes, the Steps. The Steps to Courting a Malfoy. It's not just a kiss and a fuck and then you're dating."

"Ah, of course. Because Malfoy's deserve more than that." Draco smirked.

"Obviously. Now, finish your coffee and get out of my house."

"I'm sorry, what?" Harry asked.

"You heard me. Neither of us has showered, and it's Monday and already eight. We're both late for work, you dumbass."

"Shit!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes."

"Why aren't you freaking out?"

"Because unlike you, I have a substitute teacher taking over my classes for the rest of the week, or until I feel like teaching again. Whichever comes first."

"Right." Harry Accioed all of his stuff, too lazy to go looking for all of it, and Draco walked him to the door. He turned around at the threshold and looked hopefully at Draco. "So, about these Steps…"

Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled. "I'll tell you about them tonight. Come around seven and bring wine. I hope you like spaghetti, because that's all I know how to make."

And even though he ended up getting yelled at by Ron and Hemlock, and even though he was forced to do all of the rest of their paperwork by himself as punishment, and even though Parkinson gave him a huge smirk when she came by to ask Ron's advice on a case she was working, Harry's smile lasted the whole day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if there will be a sequel, because my muse died. Well, died is putting it lightly; the damn thing jumped out of a plane into an active volcano while riding a shark covered in explosives. Needless to say, I have no more inspiration for this series. At all. 
> 
> There will be at least one more story for sure, though. It's called COnversations, and it'll just be a few conversations that Draco and Harry had while Draco was in the infirmary. Thanks a bunch for anyone who followed this story all the way till the end, and sorry about not coming up with a sequel. 
> 
> Except, not really, because I only wrote this because the plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. It's job is complete now, and it has no more ideas to offer, so... *shrugs*


End file.
